


Nothing's Ever Good Enough

by xXdreameaterXx



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, F/M, Infidelity, Rockstar AU, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-11
Updated: 2017-12-24
Packaged: 2019-01-21 07:36:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 48
Words: 73,801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12452670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xXdreameaterXx/pseuds/xXdreameaterXx
Summary: Clara Oswald is a rising musician with her entire career ahead of her. The Doctor is an ageing rock star whose career never really took off at all. So when their managers have the crazy idea for a joint album, neither one of them is so very keen on the idea. The aversion between the singers is instant and mutual. Rockstar AU.





	1. Prologue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello there, my faithful readers :) Glad you decided to come back for this one and I hope you're gonna enjoy the rollercoaster of fame and feelings. The new story about our two favourite idiots comes with a little change, however. 
> 
> I've had a closer look at the comment section and realized that most readers seemed to come back every other day, which is understandable cause we all have our busy, busy lives. But because the Christmas season is going to be a little more stressful than the rest of the year for me as well, I decided to make a little change in my posting schedule that I hope will suit me as well as most of you. From now on, new chapter updates will happen Tuesdays, Thursdays, Saturdays and Sundays. I think semi-daily plus a little weekend bonus is something I can keep up during the Christmas season and it's a schedule that will allow busy readers to catch up as well. I might, however, throw in a little extra chapter every once in a while (cause I want to post the Christmas chapters on Christmas and it won't work otherwise haha) :)
> 
> Now, lean back and enjoy the journey the Doctor and Clara are about to embark on. . .

**Prologue**

Sarah Jane Smith felt a little nervous when she entered the café and she took a deep breath when she spotted the Doctor already sitting in a window seat, his gaze probably set on something out on the street, but she couldn't be sure behind his Wayfarer sunglasses. Music and interviews with famous musicians weren't usually her métier, but she had begged and pleaded with her bosses to let her have just this one. Sarah Jane had admired the Doctor ever since her teenage years, long before his big breakthrough and even though she was only a few steps away from him, a part of her still couldn't believe it. When she had finally reached his table, her heart was hammering inside her chest and she awkwardly cleared her throat. The Doctor looked up and it seemed as if she had woken him from a daydream.

“Oh, you're the journalist,” he said and sounded almost surprised. Wherever his mind had wandered, he had been far, far away from this table and this café.

Sarah Jane smiled nervously and extended her hand. “Hi, I'm Sarah Jane Smith from The Guardian. I'll be writing the portrait about you,” she introduced herself and when the Doctor shook her hand, she couldn't help but notice how soft his skin was. His touch was strangely gentle for such a tall man like him.

“Not just writing, I assume?” he asked.

Sarah Jane needed a moment to realized what he was referring to until the Doctor nodded towards her camera bag. Then it finally clicked.

“Right, yes, sorry,” she stammered. “I'll take some photos as well if that's alright with you.”

“Fine by me,” he replied and sank back in his seat while Sarah Jane finally took the spot across the table.

She exhaled sharply, trying very hard to gather her thoughts and get that hammering heartbeat under control. If the Doctor noticed that she was a spluttering fangirl like all the other women queuing up for his autograph, it would be a disaster. However, the Doctor didn't really seem to pay her any attention at all because he looked out of the window once again. Sarah Jane gave it a short glance but couldn't spot anything out of the ordinary on the busy London street.

“Shall we take the photo right away?” she asked him.

The Doctor turned his head and granted her a short smile. “With or without the sunglasses?”

“With,” Sarah Jane confirmed. “They're your signature accessory.”

“Alright,” he replied and placed his elbows on the table. The Doctor folded his elegant fingers and once again, turned his head, looking out of the window. Sarah Jane couldn't help but think that he was a handsome man, maybe even more handsome than he appeared in photographs or music videos. Even though he was in his early 60s, the distinct features and silver curls gave him a certain something that made him undeniably attractive. But when she had readied her camera and pointed it at him, Sarah Jane noticed something through the finder than she hadn't seen before: a wedding ring decorating the ring finger on his left hand and it was shining as if it was still brand new. She took the photo and set the camera down.

Sarah was about to ask him about the ring when she realized that he still wasn't paying her attention. “I'm sorry,” she said. “Are you waiting for someone to join us?”

Finally, the Doctor turned around and reached for his sunglasses, taking them off his nose to place them on the table between them. His eyes were smiling.

“Don't mind me,” he replied. “Just ask me what you wanna ask.”

Sarah Jane uttered a nervous laugh. “Couldn't help but notice your ring. Have you made an honest woman out of Clara Oswald at last?”

Now it wasn't just his eyes that were smiling. The Doctor's entire face lit up until she could see a sheepish, almost playful grin. “I think you'll find she's no longer called Oswald.”

“Congratulations,” Sarah Jane said sincerely. “I'm surprised you managed to keep it quiet. The press has been very interested in your relationship from the beginning, especially because Miss Oswald-”

“Mrs Smith,” the Doctor corrected her. “I'm not here to talk about her. Unless you want to know about our honeymoon. We went to New Zealand. It was nice.”

“I think it was a little more than just _nice_ ,” a female voice suddenly came from behind her and Sarah Jane turned around to see that Clara Oswald/Smith had appeared at the café. She was about to open her mouth and say hello but found herself speechless when Clara walked around the table and slid into the seat next to the Doctor, greeting him with a kiss on the lips. “Why don't you tell the journalist the story about the kiwi that attacked you and chased you around?”

The Doctor cleared his throat. “Because this article is supposed to make me look good and not like the idiot of the century who got chased down the hotel corridor by a lost kiwi.”

Clara shrugged. “I never said I would provide them with photos of the incident.”

“Why have you come here exactly?” he wanted to know. “Other than to tell embarrassing stories about me?”

“Embarrassing?” Clara arched up her eyebrows. “The zoo staff wouldn't stop thanking you for returning their precious bird safely. You're their hero.”

“A hero that ran from a bird the size of a house cat,” the Doctor growled and then suddenly turned towards Sarah Jane again. “Please don't mention this in your article.”

For a moment, the journalist felt a little lost for words. She had prepared for the Doctor, not for him _and_ the famous Clara Oswald/Smith. She didn't even know what to say and she felt a little bad for speaking up at all as if she was somehow interrupting their intimacy. The public didn't know much about their relationship even though many journalists had tried, but no article had ever been more than wild speculations. They were in a relationship. Period. That was all they wanted the world to know. But seeing them with her own eyes, Sarah Jane was sure of one thing: the Doctor and Clara were undeniably in love.

She watched the Doctor reach for Clara's hand, holding it so gently as if the woman was made out of glass, as if she was incredibly precious to him. The look that Clara threw him in return was so full of love and gratitude that Sarah Jane suddenly felt the urge to leave. She was witnessing something that she shouldn't.

“Go on,” the Doctor suddenly prompted her and when Sarah Jane looked up, she realized that she had been staring at the singers for far too long and they were both looking at her expectantly. “You've got an interview to conduct, right?”

“Right,” she replied and cleared her throat. Sarah Jane glanced at her notes and finally grabbed that golden thread again that she had lost when Clara had entered the room. “So, uhm, forgive me for saying this, but your success came kinda late in your career. What's it like to suddenly get all of this attention in your 60s? To see your face on posters and have people queue up for autographs?”

The Doctor granted her a smile. “It feels good, I guess. I mean, I've been in the music business for decades, but it's nice to have finally found my. . . my _groove_ -”

“Please don't say groove,” Clara said and rolled her eyes next to him. “We're no longer in the 80s.”

“Excuse me, I believe this is my interview,” the Doctor replied and turned his head to look at his wife.

“Uh-huh,” she hummed. “And you asked me to come cause you wanted to avoid embarrassment.”

“So your solution is to embarrass me before I can?”

“Exactly, now go on,” Clara said and gave him a soft nudge, making the Doctor turn back around to face Sarah Jane.

“Yeah, uhm, my dream was never to be famous. It's more about doing what you love and knowing that people out there love what you're doing. I enjoy that a lot.”

Sarah Jane couldn't help but giggle. “Well, to be honest, I've always loved it. I've been a fan of your music from the beginning,” she admitted. “What do you think changed? What caused your breakthrough?”

“Oh, that's easy,” the Doctor replied with a grin and once again Sarah Jane thought he looked incredibly happy. “Clara. She changed everything.”

“How so?”

The Doctor tilted his head a little and his eyes wandered back to the woman by his side. There was nothing but love and admiration on his face and Sarah Jane watched Clara smile in return. “It was the album that we recorded together three years ago.”

“And you were terrible to work with,” Clara remarked.

“Just for the record, you were worse,” he countered.

They both started giggling and Sarah Jane once again felt the urge to leave and bother the loving, bickering couple no further. But there was the interview and the fact that she still couldn't quite believe this was actually happening. She was the first journalist to ever really witness the two of them together and somehow, she couldn't quite believe how two people so different had found love in each other. She would never know because Sarah Jane was well aware that whatever had happened in the last three years, neither one of them would ever speak about it and they didn't have to. Whatever had happened, it didn't seem to matter to either one of them any longer.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys so, so, so much for the sweet comments! When I had this idea, I wasn't sure whether I should actually write it cause we've already had so many rockstar AUs. I'm glad you're not tired of them yet.  
> But hey, speaking of rockstars. Let's have a look at how it all began, shall we?

**Three Years Earlier**

The coffee maker made a buzzing sound and while she was waiting for her coffee, Clara Oswald let her gaze wander out of the window through which she could see the skyline of London. The city always woke up a lot earlier than she did, in fact, Clara was sure that it never really went to sleep at all because she had looked out of her penthouse window at every possible time of day and she had always spotted someone out there. She knew she had it better than most. When the machine clicked, indicating that her coffee was finally done, Clara grabbed the mug and her phone and headed towards her sofa to finally return her manager's phone call that had woken her up in the middle of the night. After a couple of rings, Clara was greeted with a groan.

“Hangover?” she asked and attempted to sip her coffee. Clara hissed instantly when she realized it was still too hot to drink and set the mug down on her coffee table.

Her friend growled. “Family gathering. You know what that's like,” Amy replied hoarsely. “Can't survive without alcohol.”

“Yeah,” Clara breathed, but she didn't know, not really. It wasn't like she had cut ties with her family altogether, but after her grandmother's death, she hadn't really been in contact with her father as often as she had before. A couple of years ago he had remarried and she hated her stepmother. Linda was a terrible person and Clara would do almost anything to avoid seeing her. “Why did you call me in the middle of the night though? Boredom?”

“Actually, I've got news for you and you may or may not like them. Do you remember my aunt Missy?”

Clara took a careful sip from her mug. Finally, the coffee had an acceptable drinking temperature. “The one that groomed you for the music business?”

“The very one,” Amy confirmed. “So, she was there last night and she brought this insanely expensive Scotch and we had a few drinks together, we talked about the business and the singers we're currently representing. She likes you, by the way.”

“Is this gonna lead somewhere in particular?” Clara asked.

“Why? Are you in a hurry?”

She glanced at the modern, almost unreadable clock on her wall and considered her options. “Nah, it's fine. Go on,” she replied. Her breakfast date wasn't nearly as interesting as whatever Amy was going to tell her, Clara was sure of that.

“Okay, so, Missy and I both got stinking drunk and I don't even remember who brought it up first, but somehow we ended up thinking it would be a good idea to work on a project together.”

That was the point at which Clara was beginning to get a slightly nasty feeling, like a tug in her stomach that just wouldn't go away.

“And you're telling me this because?” she asked carefully, hoping that she was wrong in her assumption that it had anything to do with her.

“Because we're gonna produce an album together and you're one of the singers.”

“No,” Clara replied immediately.

“Clara, please-”

“No,” she said insistently. “I told you I wanted to take a break and I'm gonna do just that.”

“Can I please fini-”

“No, because I don't care about the rest, Amy,” Clara complained loudly, which instantly prompted another groan from the other end of the line, but right now she didn't care about her friend's hangover. “I am so glad that the tour is finally over, that I can just put my feet up and relax and I don't wanna do anything else for at least a few months. I'm tired, Amy. I'm exhausted and I need some rest and my brain is completely fried. There's no way I can come up with a new song at this point.”

“Luckily, you won't have to come up with the songs on your own.”

“Amy-”

“I'm sorry, Clara. I fucked this up, okay? It's my own fault and after this is done you can take a year off, I promise.”

Clara rolled her eyes. “Why does it have to be right now? Why can't it wait a few more months?”

Her manager's response was little more than mumbling, but still, Clara heard enough to sit up on her sofa and groan.

“Why on earth did you tell the label already without asking me first?!”

“Did I mention I fucked up and did I mention I was sorry?” Amy asked sheepishly. “I promise, we can take our time with the album. It won't be as rushed and demanding as the last one.”

Clara growled at her in response, but no matter how much she complained now, she knew that there was no way out of this. If the label already knew and had agreed, then there was no point even though Clara had really hoped for a long, long holiday. A year off sounded too good in her ears right now, or better yet, two years. She felt so exhausted that even the idea of going back to the studio was painful.

“Who's the other singer?” she asked instead.

“The Doctor,” Amy explained.

“Never heard of him.”

“Oh, you wouldn't have. He's not exactly a big shot, which is why Missy thought it would be good for his career to make an album with someone as successful as you.”

“Wait, you're using me to kickstart his career?!” Clara raised her voice at Amy. “You could've used any other halfway successful artist for that! It doesn't have to be me!”

She heard her manager sigh on the other end of the line. “That's not why we had the idea, I promise. His stuff is good and we thought you two would go really well together.”

“Well, it's not like I have a choice now, is it?” Clara groaned in reply.

“Not really, sorry.”

“I hate you,” she muttered. A joint album with an unknown singer was the last thing she needed right now.

“No, you don't.”

“Right now I do,” Clara insisted. “A little.”

“I'll stop by tomorrow when I return from Scotland and give you all the details, but for now I'd really like to cure my hangover,” her manager explained.

“Good, gives me time to find a suitable murder weapon,” she growled.

“Bye Clara, you're the best!”

When her friend and manager hung up, Clara dropped the phone on the sofa next to her and instantly saw it light up with a message from someone she really didn't want to talk to right now. She turned the phone over and went on to sip her coffee. It was cold.

With a sigh, Clara leaned back and vowed to herself that after this was over, she would most certainly take that long holiday that she had been dreaming about for months.

* * *

The Doctor had been dreaming about the house for the third night in a row and when he woke up, he closed his eyes again and his mind wandered back to the beautiful place he hadn't seen in almost ten years. Still, he could recall almost every detail about it. That sweet Scottish air which was so much cleaner than the London smog, the small lake in front of his doorstep, the wooden interior that gave it a warm, homely vibe. He wondered if it still looked the same or if Donna had rearranged it by now. She probably had. The Doctor was curious and he felt a longing for that place, but he had made a promise. He couldn't go back.

He blinked and for a moment, his sleepy mind thought he had seen a woman sitting next to his bed. Silly, sleepy brain. Then the Doctor opened his eyes for good and sat up with a start.

“Jesus Christ!” he cursed. “Missy!”

“Good morning, sleepyhead,” his manager greeted him in a cheerful manner.

“How often have I told you not to break into my flat?!”

All of a sudden, Missy looked terribly affronted. “I didn't break in,” she argued. “It's not breaking in if you have a key.”

“Which I should really take away from you,” the Doctor muttered under his breath as he sat up properly and finally threw the duvet aside. Now that his friend and manager was here, there was no way he would be going back to sleep anytime soon. No, he had a feeling she had come here for a reason. Then he suddenly noticed something.

“Is that coffee I smell?” he wanted to know.

“Coffee, fresh croissants, some shortbread I brought from Scotland, delicious jam,” Missy explained happily.

The Doctor squinted his eyes and glared at her for a long moment. That wasn't Missy. Usually, his manager wasn't nice and she didn't make him breakfast. Something was wrong, terribly wrong.

“You're firing me, aren't you?” he asked. “The label has decided that I'm not profitable and they want to kick me out.”

“Nonsense,” she replied instantly and rose from her seat. “But it does have something to do with work. Come on, let's discuss it over breakfast. I'm starving!”

Before the Doctor could say anything else, Missy marched off into the kitchen and if he wanted to hear what she had to say, he had no other choice but to follow her. Sure enough, she hadn't lied about the extensive breakfast menu on the kitchen table. There was steaming coffee, there were croissants and the smell of it all made his mouth water. Yet still, he couldn't quite shake the feeling that all of it had been set up to mollify him before the big storm was about to hit.

“Okay, out with it!” the Doctor demanded. “What's wrong?”

Missy turned around and tutted. “What makes you think something's wrong? Can't I do something nice without being accused of having an ulterior motive?”

In return, the Doctor merely arched his eyebrows at her.

Missy groaned. “Okay, fine, you're gonna do a joint album with Clara Oswald. There. That's what I came to tell you.”

For a moment, the Doctor wasn't entirely sure he had heard her correctly. A joint album with Clara Oswald. Clara Oswald, the famous, successful, young rock singer whose concerts were sold out months in advance, whose songs always skyrocketed the international charts. Why would someone like _her_ want to record an album with someone like _him_? There had to be a catch.

“I'm sorry, what?!”

“Her manager is my niece and we met again at our family gathering in Scotland. We talked, we drank, we had this silly thought, instantly sent an e-mail to the label and they loved the idea,” Missy explained, but to the Doctor, it seemed to make less sense by the minute.

“ _What?!_ ”

His manager rolled her eyes. “You and Clara are gonna record an album now whether you like it or not,” she said in exasperation. “Although you should have no reason to complain about it. Everyone knows and loves her music. Who knows, the fame might rub off.”

“I've never wanted to be famous!” the Doctor spat in reply.

“Yeah, but let's face it, you need the money.”

He was about to open his mouth and throw an insult in her face, but the Doctor couldn't deny that she was right about that. He got by but barely so and living in London was expensive. A joint album with a famous singer whose work would most definitely sell would solve several of his financial issues. But still, there was something about the idea that bothered him.

“I'm not her charity case, am I?” he wanted to know. “Cause if that's what I am to her, then it's a no from me.”

Missy snorted. “Clara Oswald has as much of a choice in this as you do. When Amy and I sent that e-mail to the label, we fucked up. We should have asked you first but we didn't. Now the label wants to do this.”

“Great,” the Doctor spat. “Fucking great.”

Clara Oswald would probably throw a fit if she learned that she was going to be forced into a joint album with a nobody like him. While he was still cursing his manager, Missy crossed the room and gave him a pat on the shoulder.

“Look at the bright side,” she said. “This album is gonna make you more money than any of the last ones for only half the work.”

The Doctor growled and glowered at her in response. No matter how Missy put it, he couldn't help but think that this entire thing was a really bad idea. It couldn't go well. He just knew it.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys so, so, so incredibly much for your lovely comments!!! Now, let's see if the Doctor and Clara are in any way curious about each other. . .

Involuntarily, Clara's lips curled into a smile when she looked at the photograph Amy had opened on her laptop and she quickly tried to hide her reaction, but damn, the Doctor looked _nice_.

“What's that smirk for?” her friend wanted to know.

“Oh, uh, nothing,” she replied but couldn't help but glance back at the picture of the handsome singer. She wasn't entirely sure how old the photo was, but the man she was wasn't what Clara had expected. When her manager and friend had first mentioned she was going to work with an unknown singer, Clara had suspected a newcomer, a young guy with a terrible haircut and a voice like any other, so this came as a pleasant surprise. The Doctor looked like he was in his 50s, he had a strange mop of unruly, silver curls on his head and Clara found it almost impossible to tear her eyes away from his tall, lean body that was dressed in a handsome, dark three-piece suit. “He's got style.”

“He does,” Amy confirmed. “And his music is actually quite good. I don't know why it doesn't sell.”

Clara reached for the remote and turned up the volume of her stereo, listening to the sound of the Doctor's music. She didn't recognize the song and if she had to place it in a decade, Clara would have suspected it had been written in the 70s. Maybe it was just too old-fashioned for modern listeners. Yet what struck her the most was his dark, gravelly voice that seemed to shoot straight through her, rippling her skin in goosebumps in the process. Handsome _and_ talented. Yep, Clara could definitely get on board with this.

“So?” Amy asked hopefully, cocking her eyebrows at her. “What do you say? No longer mad at your favourite manager?”

With a sigh, Clara put the laptop away and turned around on her sofa, facing Amy. “I really wanted that holiday, you know?”

In response, Amy granted her an apologetic smile. “I know and I'm sorry. I really messed this up for you, but look on the bright side. At least you're gonna share the burden of writing and recording and promoting with another person. The attention won't all be on you.”

“I know,” she growled, but in her head, Clara was still waving that holiday goodbye. “I'm just so tired, you know? Just the idea of smiling for the camera and dragging my arse into the studio doing all the promotional stuff. . . I had just finished all of it for the last album. I feel like I'm gonna punch the next journalist who asks me a stupid question. It's so frustrating.”

To her surprise, her manager sniggered. “You just need to relax.”

“That's exactly what I was trying to do when you forced me into this joint album!”

“Not like that,” Amy replied, giggling. “What about your toy boy?”

At the mention of him, Clara's eyes suddenly widened when she realized she hadn't even answered his last question. From yesterday.

“Fuck!” she cursed and instantly reached for her phone, but she didn't find the collection of messages she had expected. Okay, he was mad now. And he had every right to be. With a sigh, Clara dropped the phone back on her sofa. “Ah, I'll deal with him later.”

“Poor boy,” Amy remarked.

“Enough about him,” Clara determined and looked up at Amy again. “Tell me about the Doctor,” she prompted. Her curiosity was sparked by the photographs she had seen and if they were going to work together, she should know what she would be dealing with.

Yet Amy merely shrugged. “I don't know, I've never met him.”

“Oh, come on, you must know something about him,” Clara insisted and leaned forward to give her manager a soft nudge. “Any scandals?”

Her friend shook her head. “I really don't know anything about him, but I suppose you'll find out. Missy has proposed a meeting for coffee. On Friday.”

Clara pouted at her in response when she realized her curiosity wouldn't be satisfied yet and leaned back on the sofa. On Friday, she would find out who the Doctor was and until then she would do what she had intended to do: relax. Clara only hoped that the Doctor wasn't an idiot because that would make her look forward to this project even less. A holiday would have been so nice.

* * *

“I know what she looks like, I've seen the posters for her tour,” the Doctor growled at his manager when she attempted to shove her tablet under his nose.

“Take a look regardless, it might cheer you up a little,” Missy insisted and dropped the iPad into his lap.

Still growling, the Doctor picked it up and looked at the photo only half-heartedly. Beneath the layers of make-up, Clara Oswald was probably quite pretty, but the dark eyeliner only made her look like a junkie who hadn't had a proper wash in weeks.

“Why would this cheer me up?” he wanted to know.  
Missy raised her eyebrows at him. “Open your eyes, blind man. Half the country wants to sleep with her. Damn, even I would sleep with her.”

The Doctor shot her a glowering glance in reply. “I don't wanna sleep with her. How old is she? 20? That's cradle-snatching.”

“Actually, she's 29 but you know how the label likes to lie about a singer's age if they think it will make the music sell better.”

He scoffed. “Yeah, they've been passing me up for 50 for years which tells you a lot about the mental capacity of the people who buy my music.”

“Your fans don't care about age,” Missy argued.

The Doctor lifted his head and raised an eyebrow at his manager, not sure whether she had meant it as a compliment or an insult. Knowing Missy, it was probably a bit of both. 

“This will be good for your career, trust me,” she told him sternly. “And even if it doesn't make you famous, it will still pay your bills for a while, so please, wipe that look off your face. Or are you afraid that your eyebrows will drop off?”

“Funny,” he growled.

“Trust me, Doctor, you'll thank me for this at some point. Just sign the contract on Friday and make this album and everything's gonna be fine.”

“Well, if you say so,” the Doctor replied with a sigh and handed her iPad back to her. He was done staring at a photo of Clara Oswald that probably didn't even look anything like her. The Doctor only hoped that she would be nice. After so many years in the business, he had met many people, managers and singers alike, and in his experience, most of them were stuck up or downright rude. The Doctor just prayed that Clara Oswald wasn't one of them because they would have to work together for quite some time. It would make the following months unbearable.

“Do you know anything about her other than that she's successful?”

His manager shrugged. “Not really, no. Never met her. But my niece is her manager. It'll be fine.”

Even though Missy kept reassuring him of that, the Doctor wasn't quite convinced. He wasn't exactly a team player. He had never done this sort of thing before. Somehow he couldn't shake the feeling that it was a terrible idea, but what choice did he have? Whoever she was, whether he liked her or not, the Doctor would just have to grit his teeth and go through with it.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys so much for the sweet, lovely comments! I'm a bit scared cause you're all expecting a "fun" fic and I don't know if you've looked at the tags yet, but. . . eh, let's see how their first meeting goes, mh?

Clara had a massive headache and for once, she didn't really mind that the sun wasn't shining over London and that it was raining buckets on top of her. She had her umbrella and the dark, dull weather was gentle on her aching eyes. Why on earth had she let her friend convince her to go out for drinks on a Thursday night when she knew she had an appointment the next day? Clara sighed. It was too late for regrets now. She would just have to deal with her hangover and pray that the meeting would be quick. After all, they would have to sign the contract no matter what, it shouldn't take that long.

However, when Clara boarded the bus that would take her into the city, she soon started to question her own sanity. Why was she always insisting on using the public transport when she could have a chauffeur to drive her any place she wanted? Why was it that she was so adamant about leading a normal life just because people didn't recognize her off stage? Right now, as she boarded the overcrowded bus, Clara really didn't know what could possibly be so bad about having a nice, clean, spacious car with air conditioning that didn't reek of sweat and garlic. With a sigh, she reached for the nearest handle as the bus set into motion and she found it to be suspiciously sticky. None of this helped improve her mood in the slightest and Clara vowed that she would call an Uber on the way back. For now, however, she would just have to grit her teeth.

* * *

The Doctor cursed himself for leaving his umbrella at home. It hadn't been raining when he had left his flat, but no more than ten minutes later, his coat, his trousers and his shoes were all drenches and for once, his hair was sticking flat to his head, hanging down in his face while the water dropped right onto his nose. It was a downpour like he hadn't seen in months and he tried really hard not to see it as a bad omen. Somehow, all the terrible things in his life had happened during a rain like this one. His big disappointment after having been rejected by his dream label. The terrible day River had left him. The Doctor knew that this catastrophe was likely to be on a smaller scale, but still, it didn't make it easier to agree to a contract he already didn't want to sign.

Clara Oswald. Her name resounded in his head even as he boarded the crowded bus and squeezed himself in between an old lady with a walking frame and a hipster with a heavy backpack. Clara Oswald. The Doctor had no idea what to expect from today's meeting and he still had half a mind to blow the whole thing off. Yes, he needed the money and yes, he needed it desperately, but he was a proud man and not above declining something that smelled like charity work for a famous singer. He still had about half an hour to make up his mind.

As the Doctor pushed his way further into the crowded bus, he considered the pros and cons of signing the contract and he was maybe a little bit too distracted because a moment later, a sharp voice came from his left and there was no doubt that it was directed at him.

“Watch where you're going!”

The Doctor turned around and at first glance, he couldn't even see where the voice had come from. Then he lowered his head a little and swiftly found the source in the shape of an angry looking woman the size of a dwarf. She glared at him. Yep, that was definitely the one who had shouted at him.

“You stepped on my foot!” the tiny woman complained and the Doctor assumed she would have put her arms akimbo had it not been for the limited space on this bus.

He put on an apologetic smile. “Sorry, but as you can see, the bus is a little crowded.”

“The bus has been crowded for several stations which should have been obvious from the outside,” the woman barked and then jabbed an angry finger at his chest. The Doctor instinctively stepped back as best as he could. “You should have had the brains to wait for the next one!”

For a moment, the Doctor was speechless and he could only just refrain from laughing out loud. Whoever this woman was, she obviously thought she was better than anyone else on the bus. There was no other explanation for her behaviour and suddenly, he felt no longer sorry for stepping on her foot.

“I skipped two busses before this because they were all crowded but I'm gonna have to show up at my appointment at some point,” the Doctor explained with a shrug. “It's rush hour. So I guess you'll just have to suck it up.”

The bus took the next turn maybe just a little bit too fast and he suddenly found himself being catapulted into the woman's direction. He tried his best to avoid it. He reached for a handle, a seat, anything, but his hands found nothing but air and the unavoidable thing happened again. The Doctor stepped on her foot a second time.

“Ow!” the woman complained loudly and gave him a push. She was still the size of a child, so normally, it wouldn't have had much of an effect, but she took him by surprise and if he hadn't found a handle to grab at the last moment, the Doctor would have bumped into the rest of the crowd.

“Hey!” he barked at her in response. The Doctor had understood her anger before, but now she was taking it a little too far. “I said I was sorry, okay? There is no need to take your anger management issues out on me.”

The woman in front of him huffed. “Anger management issues?!”

In reply, the Doctor merely nodded. “Isn't that what this is?”

When the bus came to a halt, the Doctor glanced out of the window and noticed to his relief that he had reached his stop. He would no longer have to deal with this woman and her unfounded anger against him.

“Will you at least let me pass?!” she barked to his surprise and then he noticed that she was trying to push past him. It was obviously her stop as well.

For a moment, he considered answering her, but then he decided to just turn around and head outside, away from her. Far, far away from her.

 

The rain hadn't ceased. On the contrary, it seemed to have gotten worse while he had been bickering with the short woman and the Doctor wrapped his coat a little more tightly around his body event thought it wasn't helping much. He was already soaked to the bones and the only thing he could hope for at this point was a hot cup of coffee at the café. As he pictured it, the hot, steaming beverage, the lovely smell of it, how it was going to warm him up from the inside, the Doctor was so lost in his thoughts that he had completely forgotten about the angry woman until someone rudely jostled against his arm in passing.

“Hey, watch-” His sentence was cut short when he recognized the short frame of the woman and realized that it hadn't been an accident but a petty act of revenge. The Doctor swallowed his anger as the woman turned around the corner, her steps fast as if she was in a hurry. No, shouting after her wouldn't help. Instead, he took a deep breath and slowed his pace. The Doctor was already drenched now. There was no reason to arrive at the meeting wet _and_ exhausted.

A few minutes later, the Doctor was freezing and he was grumpy, but he finally spotted the little café that Missy had told him about and as he stepped closer, he could already recognize her through the window. His friend and manager was in the company of a young woman with long, red hair, so the Doctor assumed that Clara Oswald hadn't made it to the meeting yet when all of a sudden, another woman sat down at the table. He came to a halt. It was worse than he had expected. Much, much worse.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all your lovely comments! Oh dear, it looks as if their first meeting didn't go particularly well. Will there be an improvement when they realize who the other is?

For some reason, the café atmosphere, the chattering people around her, the sound of cups clinking together made her headache worse. All Clara really wanted was to go home, close the blinds and sleep until the hangover had passed. She flinched when she heard Amy's shrill voice, beckoning her to join them at the table. Her friend looked devastatingly cheerful. After uttering a low growl, Clara finally approached Amy and the other woman who could only be her friend's aunt.

“Hi,” she said and even though she had shouted at the rude stranger on the bus earlier, her voice now only came out hoarse. Quickly, she cleared her throat and sat down next to Amy. Clara had been curious about the Doctor, but right now all she could think about was a hot shower and her bed. If only this meeting was over already.

Amy said something and so did the other manager but Clara never really heard it. The loud voices were making her head ache to the point that she was beginning to feel nauseous and she cursed her friend for the last round of Martinis. Somehow, she had to get through this.

“Is the Doctor not here yet?” she asked after a moment.

“He texted me when he left his flat. Should be here any moment,” the other woman explained. “I'm Missy, by the way.”

Clara forced herself to smile but even that seemed to hurt her head, so instead, she let her eyes wander and instantly found the darkest spot in the entire room – the door. Just when her headache was about to relax, the door opened and Clara watched a man step inside.

Clara had to close her eyes when the light from the outside blinded her, but once she opened them again, she instantly recognized the stranger from the bus who had obviously followed her here for whatever reason. When the man looked straight at her, a deep frown on his face, Clara knew that he had _definitely_ followed her here.

“Ah, there he is,” Missy's voice rang in her here and to her horror, Clara watched the woman wave towards the man who had stepped on her foot.

The realisation struck her a little too late and by the time Clara had done the math, the Doctor had already reached their table and sat down. His clothes were drenched and even though his hair had been flattened by the rain, Clara cursed herself internally for not realizing who he was on the bus. Now that he was sitting right in front of her, there was no doubt that the rude man from earlier was indeed the Doctor. Oh, this couldn't have turned out worse.

“Did you go for a swim?” Missy asked him.

Clara watched the Doctor glower at his manager, but she quickly glanced away when their eyes met. While she still racked her brain for a way to get out of this album, the Doctor had obviously had the same thought after their recent encounter on the bus.

“I was trying to drown myself to get out of this silly album,” he spat.

“Now, don't be silly,” his manager remarked matter-of-factly and reached into her bag before pulling out a stack of paper that she placed neatly in front of her. “The label is very keen on this project and I'm sure you'll work very well together. I mean, it's not like you have much of a choice now.”

Clara eyed the woman curiously and realized that she was probably very lucky with Amy as her manager, who wasn't nearly as strict and demanding as her aunt seemed right now. But she was right. After what Amy had told her, they really didn't have a choice after their managers had already agreed to the album. The only thing they could do was to get it over with quickly.

“Shall we go over the contract then?” Clara asked impatiently. Her headache was making her wish she was back home already, but that didn't mean she would sign a contract she hadn't even read.

“Sure, let's go over every little detail,” the Doctor remarked, the sarcasm audible in his voice. “I love dripping all over the café floor in the meantime.”

“That's your own fault,” she muttered under her breath, but to her dismay, the Doctor heard her.

“Excuse me, what was that?”

Clara raised her head and looked straight at him. They were going to work together whether they wanted to or no, so she should let him know from the start that she was the boss and not him. “I said it was your own fault for not bringing an umbrella,” she repeated herself. “Now can we please go over the contract?”

His gaze shifted from her to his manager and somehow, Missy seemed to understand him perfectly without ever having heard a word.

“There's really no getting out of it,” his manager remarked.

The Doctor sighed and then did something that surprised Clara. She watched him reach for the stack of paper and the pen Missy had placed on top of the pile and he started to sign the contracts without ever having read them.

“For fuck's sake, how many copies are there?” the Doctor muttered, but nevertheless, he kept on signing until he had reached the last page. When he had finished, the Doctor shoved the pages back towards Missy and rose from his seat. “Well, have fun discussing the contract.”

He didn't even say goodbye before he turned around on his heels and headed towards the exit and for a moment, Clara was left speechless. The Doctor hadn't made the best first impression on the bus earlier, but now Clara's suspicion was confirmed. He was a jerk and an idiot. The following months were going to be hell.

“Well, that was quick,” Amy remarked and it was the first thing she had said ever since the Doctor had entered the room. Quickly, she put on a smile. “Shall we go over the details?”

Clara merely nodded while Missy produced a list from out of her bag.

“Basically, what the label wants is an album with at least 15 tracks,” she explained. “We figured that you and the Doctor could cover each other's song and for the rest, you could put together some new songs that are suitable duets.”

“Okay,” Clara replied. First good news of the day. At least they wouldn't have to come up with 15 new songs.

“I took the liberty of making a little pre-selection for you. Amy, did you bring yours?”

“Oh, sure,” her friend replied and drew a flash drive out of her pocket. Amy slid the device over to Missy while Clara was handed a CD.

She turned it over in her hand and discovered a hand-written track list on the back, but none of the songs even rang the faintest bell.

“We booked a small studio outside of London so the two of you can practice together and select what songs you would like to be on the album,” Missy went on to explain. “A car will pick you up on Monday at 8 to take you there.”

Clara's head shot up in an instant. “Monday?” she asked instantly and turned her head to look at Amy. “But you said we'd have time.”

“It's just for some early tests,” Amy reassured her. “To see which songs work and see how you sound together. Don't worry too much about it. Listen to his songs and prepared a few until Monday. It'll be fine.”

Once again Clara thought about the holiday she could have had, but she quickly brushed the idea aside. First, she would have to get this album over with, then she could relax. Unless, of course, she happened to strangle the Doctor before their work was done.  
Missy slid the papers in her direction and held out a pen and when Clara took it from her, it somehow felt as if she was about to sell her soul to the devil.

“Are you okay?” Amy wanted to know when she hesitated for a moment too long.

Clara forced herself to smile. “Yes,” she lied and signed her name next to the Doctor's scribble. It was going to be terrible. She just knew it.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys so much for all your sweet and lovely comments! Ah, we know those two, don't we? We know they're always idiots. . .

“He's such a prick!” Clara complained loudly as she dropped down on her sofa. Then her eyes fell on Amy and she noticed that she looked more than just a little confused. “Oh, and thanks for the lift.”

When Clara proceeded to bury her aching head in her hands, she only felt the sofa sink right next to her where Amy sat down.

“You met him for like two minutes,” her friend reasoned. “Yeah, he probably could have been a little nicer, but in his defence, he was really drenched. No wonder he wanted to keep the meeting short.”

Clara shook her head. “I met him on the bus earlier and he stepped on my foot,” she explained. “He didn't even really apologize for it. Just gave me a _well, the bus is crowded_ speech and moved on.”

“So you both got off on the wrong foot?” Amy asked. “No pun intended.”

She lifted her head and glowered in Amy's direction. Maybe if she had said something before signing the contract, Amy would have let her off the hook in light of the circumstances, but Clara knew that this was nothing more than wishful thinking. “He's just so unmannered. How am I supposed to work with him?”

Her manager shrugged. “You're not exactly a saint either. I suppose you can always try to be your charming self.”

Clara's gaze turned into a frown. “Was that an insult or a compliment?”

“Who knows,” Amy replied nonchalantly and patted Clara's shoulder before she rose to her feet. “I've got to go. Why don't you listen to his songs, practice a few and then show off your amazing skills on Monday? I'm sure that once you've managed to impress him, he'll be nothing but charming. Most men are.”

“I don't wanna impress him,” Clara mumbled. “I wanna kick him where it hurts.”

Amy smiled at her in response. “See you on Monday.”

 

As soon as her friend had left, Clara got up and rummaged through her kitchen drawer until she had found the package of painkillers. After swallowing two with a glass of water, hoping they would help cure her headache, she grabbed the CD Amy had left on her coffee table and sank back down on the sofa. A couple of clicks later, the Doctor's music began to play.

It didn't take Clara long to determine that she hated him. His music was great. No, it was better than that. It was _awesome_. How could it be that someone as rude and unmannered as the Doctor was able to make such good music? His voice was deep and raspy and it made her skin tingle in a way only a few sounds had managed so far. And of course, the man had a way with words. Clara had no doubt that a collaboration between the two of them would turn out amazing.

Angrily, she slammed the laptop shut. It wasn't fair that someone was so rude and talented at the same time and she vowed to herself that she would never admit that in front of him.

* * *

The hot water felt marvellous on in skin and the idea of stepping back out into the colder bathroom didn't appeal to the Doctor at all. Instead, he turned the tap and increased the temperature just a little more. Slowly but surely, he was beginning to warm up again after an hour of wearing wet clothes and he vowed to stay under the shower until the hot water turned cold. But then a noise from the living room caught his attention and he stuck his head out of the shower to listen more closely. It was music.

“Missy!” the Doctor shouted. “Hands off my stereo!”

When the rock music didn't cease, the Doctor had no other choice but to keep Missy from doing further harm. He turned off the water, dried himself off as quickly as possible and merely wrapped a towel around his waist before he entered the living room.

The Doctor found his manager exactly where he had expected to find her, sitting on his sofa and enjoying a cup of coffee, _his_ coffee.

“What do you want?” he demanded to know. 

Missy didn't reply immediately. Instead, she took a sip from the hot beverage and seemed to savour the taste for a moment before she spoke. “You left in such a hurry that you missed some important bits,” she explained. “I brought you some of her music.”

Missy nodded towards the stereo and the Doctor listened closely for a while, not recognizing the song, but determining that it was a good one.

“Why?”

“Because on Monday, a car is gonna pick you up and drive you to the Chesterton Studio where you and Clara Oswald are gonna practice each other's songs. The label wants some cover versions of your best songs on the album.”

The Doctor uttered a growl. He had hoped that they would have some time before the next meeting, time to forget what a disaster their first encounter had been. Clara Oswald was a bitch and the Doctor was fairly certain that after she had witnessed his stubborn behaviour at the café, she didn't have the best opinion of him either. How were they going to work together if they hated each other?

“Don't give me that face, Doctor!” Missy raised her index finger in a warning gesture. “You were rude at the café, so I need you to be on your best behaviour on Monday.”

“Only if Clara does the same,” he muttered under his breath.

“Oh no,” his manager warned him sharply, “I will not let you behave like a child. You can't afford to blow this, Doctor. I mean, look around you.”

He didn't actually need to have a look at his surroundings to know what Missy was referring to. His place was a dump, located in one of the worst parts of town, and it was all he could afford. He got by mostly by playing a couple of gigs, but his albums weren't selling, not anymore. Maybe they never really had sold in the first place.

“Just try to be nice, okay? At least until you've finished the album,” Missy told him. “After that, you can go back to being your grumpy, old self. But do this one, okay?”

Reluctantly, the Doctor nodded. At least he now knew that he wasn't Clara Oswald's charity case. A woman like her would never agree to record an album with him just out of the goodness of her heart. No, she was being forced into this as much as he was. Though whether that made the situation better or worse, the Doctor couldn't say.

“There's a good boy,” his manager said and granted him a disgustingly sweet smile. Missy crossed the room and gave him a soft slap on the back. “A car will pick you up at 8. Be ready when they show up.”

“Do I have a choice?” the Doctor growled.

Missy sighed. “Not really.”

When his manager left his flat, the Doctor was left on his own with nothing but Clara Oswald's music playing in the background. As much as he hated her, a part of him couldn't help but admit that her music was good. Oh, if only there was a way out of this mess.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, my dearest readers :D I'm so excited cause we're only a few chapters into the story and you are all so into this fic already, so I just can't help that every single one of your comments brings a huge grin to my face. Thank you :)
> 
> Ok, you want their second meeting? Let's have their second meeting!

In his head, the Doctor was making a list of things he would rather do than to go to the studio and record a few songs with Clara Oswald. He had never really been a morning person, but the prospect of dealing with her made him even grumpier than he usually was. But Missy was right. He really couldn't afford to blow it, so instead of complaining about it any further, the Doctor took a shower, drank his morning coffee, ate a slice of stale toast because once again, he had forgotten to go shopping and then he headed out of the door. However, as he spotted the car that was waiting for him, he found yet another nasty surprise.

“Quit staring and get in,” Clara Oswald snapped at him. “I don't wanna be late because of you.”

“We're sharing the car?!”

Clara raised her hands in a surrendering gesture, careful not to spill the cup of Starbucks she was holding in one hand. Of course, a silly girl like her would spend £3 on a cup of coffee even though the home-made version tasted just as good. “Trust me, I was just as surprised as you are.”

Still a little baffled, the Doctor watched Clara turn around and climb into the car and he had no other choice but to follow her example if he didn't want to pay for a taxi to take him to the studio. Luckily for him, the back of the car was spacious and the Doctor sat down on the opposite end to have as much space between them as possible. Neither of them said a word when the driver set the car the into motion.

“I'm Louis,” the driver suddenly said. “The label told me to take you to the Chesterton Studio. I suppose we'll be there in-”

“Thanks, we know where we're going,” Clara Oswald interrupted him, the air of annoyance hanging around her.

The Doctor's head shot around and for a moment, he merely watched her sip her coffee. Without all the makeup she usually wore on the posters and the additional Photoshop job, Clara was quite a natural beauty with dark, brown eyes, a cute nose and nice lips that were currently stained with coffee, but her character undid all of that and made her ugly.

“Do you have to be rude?” the Doctor asked her. “Louis is just doing his job. There's no need to snap at him.”

In return, Clara Oswald raised her head to look at him. She opened her mouth and for a moment, the Doctor thought she was going to snap at him next, but then she closed it again and merely shook her head before she turned her attention back to the coffee in her hand.

“Spoiled bitch,” he muttered under his breath, too low for anyone to hear it, but Clara had obviously noticed that he had said _something_.

“I'm sorry, what was that?!” she barked.

“I said I hope you choke on your coffee.”

“Well, and I hope you-”

Her insult was cut short when Louis suddenly interrupted her. “Do you guys want me to put on some music?”

“No!” they both shouted at him in unison.

 

After that, the car fell silent. The Doctor sank back in his seat and decided to focus on the road ahead of them, but the sight was blocked by Louis' head. Clara was busy drinking her coffee, but he dreaded to think what would happen once she finished it. How on earth were they ever going to work together if they couldn't even have a single decent conversation without being at each other's throats? Somehow they needed to find a way to get along at least on a professional level.

“Are you sure you don't want me to put on some music?” Louis asked again, more carefully this time.

Just to see her reaction, the Doctor let his gaze wander to where Clara sat and their eyes met. She was glowering at him.

“What exactly is your problem?” she demanded to know.

“Me?!” the Doctor asked in surprise. “I don't have a problem. What's _your_ problem?”

In response, Clara discarded the empty coffee cup and crossed her arms in front of her chest. “I certainly don't have a problem either.”

“Then why did you have a go at me on the bus?”

“Because you stepped on my foot! Why did you make such a scene when we met to sign the contract?!”

“Because I was wet and eager to go home. Are we seriously still fighting about that?!”

“Apparently, we are!”

The Doctor scoffed and turned around to look out of the window. They had left London by now and the driver was heading down a rather quiet road towards the Chesterton Studio. He knew that place well by now and Ian, the owner, had become something like a friend over the years. Most of his albums had been recorded at that studio and at least the familiar environment was something to look forward to.

“Where are you taking us?” Clara asked the driver after a while.

“He's gonna take you into the forest to chop your head off,” the Doctor replied dryly without even looking at her.

“Sorry, did I give you the impression my question was directed at you?”

“Like I said,” Louis threw in before the Doctor had a chance to respond, “we're going to the Chesterton Studio. We'll be there in half an hour.”

Clara huffed angrily and the Doctor heard her sink back into the leather seat, praying that she would remain silent for the rest of the way, but obviously, he had no such luck.

“This thing reeks of one of Amy's bad plans,” she muttered angrily.

“What do you mean?”

“Isn't it obvious?” she asked back.

The Doctor turned his head and glared at her. To him, it wasn't obvious at all and he was tired of Clara dancing around the subject. He was tired of Clara.

“It's our managers trying to make to get along. Why else would they make us drive all the way out here in the same car?”

“Because it's cheap,” the Doctor deadpanned. “The studio is cheap, sharing a car saves money. No other reason.”

“Oh,” she uttered in response and quickly averted her eyes. Well, the Doctor figured, apparently she wasn't so smart after all. Somehow, that realisation brought a smile to his face.

“Are you done now and can I finally put on some music?” Louis asked from the front seat and suddenly, the Doctor felt a pang of embarrassment. They had been arguing in front of the driver for the duration of the entire trip over something as silly as stepping on someone else's foot on a crowded bus. Louis must think they were children.

“Fine, put on some music,” Clara agreed and threw a dark glance at the Doctor. “Anything is better than listening to him.”

The Doctor was about to throw something back at her when suddenly, the car started to stutter. He turned his attention towards the front seat where Louis was holding on to the steering wheel, but the red, blinking check engine light instantly caught his eye.

“Oh dear,” the driver uttered and only just managed to pull over when the engine went out and the car came to a halt a short distance later.

“What's wrong?” Clara demanded to know and stuck her head between the headrests to get a proper look at the situation. “What's happening?”

Louis uttered a heavy sigh. “I'm afraid we've broken down.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for your sweet comments :) Now, we've established that they don't get along at all. Will there be murder in this chapter?

Smoke billowed into his face when the driver opened the hood and the Doctor waved his hand to get rid of it, but it still stung in his lungs, making him cough in an instant. They had broken down alright and whatever it was, it probably wasn't an easy fix.

“What's the matter with it?” Clara asked, shoving the Doctor out of the way to get a proper look at the smoking engine. She started to cough as well.

“Well, first if all, I'm a driver, not a mechanic,” Louis said as he pushed his way past the Doctor and Clara while the annoyance was audible in his voice. “Second, I might be able to tell you if you _let me look_.”

He hissed the last part of his statement and the Doctor could feel that he was more than fed up with the two of them. Not that it surprised him. The Doctor himself was fed up with their bickering. In an attempt to pull her out of the way, the Doctor reached for Clara's arm and carefully pulled her aside, but the gesture only seemed to spark her anger further. She spun around on her heels and glared at him.

“Hey, don't touch me!”

“Just let Louis have a look, okay?” the Doctor said. “Or are you suddenly a car expert?”

In response, Clara crossed her arms in front of her chest and opened her mouth, but it seemed to take her a moment to find the perfect reply. “You have no idea what I'm an expert of. You don't know me,” she spat and suddenly reached out to jab his chest with her index finger.

“Hey, I thought we had a rule about the touching!”

“ _Will the two of you shut up?!_ ”

Both the Doctor and Clara turned around in an instant and he realized that their driver was staring at them, his forehead lined in an angry look.

“That's it,” Louis said exasperatedly. “I'm done.”

“What?!” Clara barked at him.

“I am done!” their driver repeated more slowly. “I'm tired of listening to you two, so I'm gonna walk back to the petrol station and get some help. You two can do whatever the hell you like. Kill each other, fix the car, I don't care as long as I don't have to listen to you two!”

The Doctor was left speechless while Louis turned around and started to head down the road and all he could think about was that he had a point. He and Clara had behaved like children and it had to stop now or else they would never have any sort of professional relationship. But just when he was about to declare their fight over, Clara opened her mouth.

“Great, you scared the driver away,” she complained loudly.

The Doctor's head shot around. “Me?!” He gawked at her, then scoffed. “I think you were trying to say that _you_ scared him away.”

Yet Clara didn't respond to that. Instead, she pulled her phone out of her pocket. “I know what we'll do. We'll call the-” her sentence broke off when she had unlocked her screen and the Doctor watched her roll her eyes while she dropped the device back into her pocket. “No reception.”

Just to see if she was right, the Doctor drew his own phone out and checked. No signal. Not even a hint of it. They seemed to be deep in a dead zone and right now, all they could hope for was that Louis wasn't too mad to come back for them once he had managed to get help. But after their behaviour, the Doctor really wouldn't bet on that.

“So we just wait?” Clara wanted to know.

For a moment, the Doctor only looked at her. Clara Oswald with her big, dark eyes and her successful music career, asking him what they should do when only a moment ago, they had bickered like school children and somehow, the Doctor felt like laughing out loud. It was insane. This whole idea of a joint album had been insane from the beginning he vowed to tell Missy that the next time he saw her. But first, they would have to get to the studio. So instead of answering Clara's question, the Doctor turned his attention back towards the engine that had stopped smoking by now. He really didn't know a lot about cars. Back in the 90s, he and River had owned one, but the engines seemed to have changed a lot since then and the Doctor wasn't entirely sure what exactly he was supposed to look for. Smoke could mean a lot of things and none of them were particularly good. Most likely, this problem exceeded his skill as a mechanic.

“Do you even know what you're doing?” Clara Oswald asked him when he started to check whether the car had enough oil left. It had.

Angrily, he shot around and glared at her. “Do you wanna have a go? Do you think you can do a better job at finding out what's wrong?”

Groaning impatiently, Clara shoved him aside and opened a lid to another tank. She looked inside for a moment, then put the lid back on. “It's out of coolant,” she told him.

The Doctor scoffed and placed his arms on his hips. “And how would you know that?”

“Believe it or not, my first motorcycle was a pile a crap and there was a time I didn't have the money to pay a fancy garage to fix it.”

“So you fixed it yourself?” he asked in disbelief. “Don't you think that if it was as simple as adding coolant, our driver would have done that?”

In response, Clara nodded to something behind him and when he turned around, the Doctor noticed an approaching car that slowed down and eventually came to a halt next to them. Louis stepped out of the passenger door. “Why don't you ask him yourself?”

The Doctor watched as Louis thanked the person who had driven him here before he closed the car door and walked towards them, holding up a bottle.

“Sorry, took a bit longer than I had expected,” their driver explained. “But I stopped a car and the driver happened to have some coolant left over. We'll be good to go in a few minutes.”

While Louis approached the car and proceeded to fill the tank Clara had previously checked out, the Doctor was all too aware of the way she was staring at him. He glanced briefly at her and instantly noticed the smug smile on her face. Right now, the Doctor wished that he could wipe off that look.

“What did I tell you?” she hummed in a sing-song voice, smiling to herself.

“Shut up,” he growled.

The smile on her face turned into a grin. “You're just mad that I know more about engines than a 60-year-old man.”

“58,” the Doctor corrected her.

“I'm making you doubt your masculinity,” Clara teased, grinning broadly at him.

“Didn't I tell you to shut up?”

“Don't you wanna go and build a house or shoot an animal just to prove you're still a man?”

The Doctor inhaled sharply and turned around to look at Clara. How could someone so tiny be so bold at the same time? He stepped a little closer. “There's more to being a man than fixing cars and shooting things,” he said, glowering at her.

“Oh yeah?” Clara giggled. “Like what? Measuring your cock and bragging about the size?”

“Not what I meant.”

For some reason, his reply made her laugh. “That small, is it? Wow, I'm sorry.”

“I can assure you-”

His sentence was cut short when Louis cleared his throat next to them. “Well, I'm finished here, so do you guys want to go to the studio or get a room or?”

Quickly, Clara seemed to snap out of it and turned her attention back to their driver. “Studio would be great,” she said. “Let's get this over with so I don't have to see his face all day.”

The Doctor was about to bark at her in reply, but he thought better of it. Even though Clara Oswald was a spoiled brat and a bitch, he was determined to make this album work and for that, one of them had to stop this silly, little fight. And if Clara couldn't play nice, he would just have to be the adult and put an end to their pointless bickering.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the lovely comments! Are we gonna see some bloodshed today or will they finally get along? Let's have a look at our idiots:

Clara rinsed her hands off the soap in the small but fancy bathroom of the studio and stared at the reflection that was looking back at her out of the mirror. She thought that she looked just as tired as she felt and wondered why no one else seemed to be able to see it. Amy claimed that she understood, but then why was Clara in the studio again, about to practice songs with a man she didn't get along with when she had specifically asked for a holiday? A part of her wished that she could just walk out of here and hide in her old flat that she still kept for sentimental reasons even though she now had a lovely penthouse to call her own. Some days, Clara wished she had never been successful with her music at all.

At uni, Clara had wanted to be an English teacher or a writer. Would a teaching job have drained her like this one did? Would grading the year seven homework have been as exhausting as writing and recording an entire album in a matter weeks, followed by magazine and radio interviews, several photo shoots that looked nothing like her thanks to the amount of Photoshop they had used to distort her face and a promotional tour around the world? Clara sincerely doubted that. She wouldn't have the penthouse, but maybe she would have been happier in her small Shoreditch flat. It was the love for music that kept her going, but Clara dreaded the day that love would run out.

But she was here now and she had little choice but to work with the Doctor to make this album happen, so Clara splashed her face with cold water and dried it off with a paper towel.

When Clara stepped onto the corridor, she was surprised that she could already hear music and it didn't take long until her skin rippled in goosebumps again. There was something about the Doctor's voice that made her forget her aversion for him for just a moment.

“ _Before I go let me kiss you and wipe the tears from your eye. I don't want to hurt you, girl, you know I could never lie._ ”

Clara glanced around the corner, cautious not to get caught, and just watched the spectacle in front of her eyes. That was the man she had admired in old photographs even though he wore a pair of plaid trousers and a silly hoodie instead of a neat, dark suit. Right now, there was definitely something attractive about him while he was lost in his own song, but Clara would never willingly admit that in front of him. The Doctor was merely warming up, but there was something haunting about his deep, raspy voice and no matter how hard she tried to fight it, his singing brought an involuntary smile to her face. Their album was going to be good. Then, he suddenly stopped.

“What are you smiling at?”

Once she realized that the Doctor had addressed her, Clara uttered a nervous laugh. She tried again, but for some reason, she couldn't stop smiling. “What? Am I not allowed to smile now?”

“Well, you are,” he replied with a frown. “But it's a little terrifying.”

Finally, Clara stepped forward and joined him behind the glass window. This time, she closed the door behind her so no one else would hear the bickering that was sure to start any second now. No one else from the team seemed to be around yet, but Clara knew that that could change any moment.

“What exactly are you terrified of? My young age? My success? My talent?” she asked teasingly, smiling at him. Damn, why couldn't she just stop smiling? When she looked at the Doctor, Clara felt something tuck at her insides and the smile just came naturally as if someone was tickling her.

“Oh, you have talent now?” The Doctor raised his eyebrows.

“Do you want me to continue to make fun of your small dick?” Clara asked in response, chuckling.

“No, cause that would be mean and above all, a lie,” he argued.

“Dead ringer for love?”

In response, he only looked at her, the confusion visible on his face. Clara giggled at his dumb expression.

“I'm sorry?”

“The song, idiot,” she replied and raised her hand, giving his forehead a soft nudge with her index finger. “Do you know it?”

There was a sudden crackling sound before the speakers in the room came to life and a Scottish voice resounding in her ears.

“Will you kindly stop flirting or whatever it is you're doing and sing us a little song?”

Clara turned around and when she looked through the window, she saw that not only Amy but also the Doctor's strange manager had arrived by now and she wasn't quite sure how long they had been there, but both of them had obviously gotten the wrong end of the stick.

“We weren't flirting,” the Doctor argued instantly.

In response, Missy raised her eyebrows at them both.

“We really weren't,” Clara confirmed and glanced at the Doctor, wrinkling her nose in the process. They had been bickering, but bickering wasn't flirting. Far from it. They didn't even like each other.

 

Their managers didn't seem to pay their argument any further attention, so the Doctor and Clara had no other choice but to start practising. It took them a while, but eventually, they found one of his older songs that could be a suitable duet. Clara hated to admit that in front of him, but she was actually enjoying singing his songs a lot more than she would have thought. As for him, hearing the Doctor sing the songs that she had written was a whole new experience. He was rude and unmannered and she didn't like him, but he had a great voice and he brought something strange and new to her songs when she hadn't thought that was possible. Clara had sung them so often and by now, she usually switched the radio off when they played one of her own works, but hearing them from the Doctor somehow brought the excitement back. He was good. Her songs were good. But it was the combination of both that surprised her the most and every doubt she had had about this album was blown away. Their album wasn't going to be good, it was going to be amazing. 

Yet there was a little voice inside her head, a tiny, nagging voice that she had tried to suppress for a very long time. Next to the Doctor, who maybe wasn't as successful as she was, but who had the talent and the experience, Clara suddenly felt like a child. Most of the time, she had no idea what she was doing even though she liked to pretend that she was the boss of everyone. The sad truth was that she was only a fraud, pretending to have it all under control. That was why she had truly needed the holiday because it took all her energy to pretend that she was fine.

 

“If that album isn't going to be a smashing success, I will quit my job and become a butcher,” Amy announced after they had gone through all the songs and selected several suitable cover versions.

“A butcher?” Clara asked suspiciously. “Why a butcher?”

Her friend shrugged. “Can't think of anything else.”

“What about a florist? Less bloody,” she suggested.

“That works,” Amy replied. “So, we've got the cover versions, now all we need is some new songs to put on the album. Preferably written by the two of you together.”

In response, Clara frowned at her manager. They had talked of new songs, yes, but no one had ever mentioned that she and the Doctor were supposed to write them together.

“That would mean we have to meet up,” he noted and Clara could tell by his voice that he was just as keen on the prospect as she was. They would probably murder each other before a single song had been finished.

The door to the studio suddenly opened and an elderly man stuck his head through the crack. He smiled and then nodded towards the Doctor and Missy. Somehow, Clara had the feeling that it was the owner, Ian Chesterton, the Doctor's old friend. “I'm sorry, but the next band is here.”

“Give us five minutes, okay? We're just finishing up here,” Missy replied.

The old man nodded and closed the door behind him.

“Okay, why don't we discuss the details about the two of you meeting up for some creative writing sessions on Saturday?” Amy suggested.

“Saturday? What's Saturday?” the Doctor wanted to know.

Amy smiled at him. “The label is hosting a big party on Saturday. Basically everyone's invited. We could talk about the details then.”

“Good plan,” Clara agreed. At least it meant that she had the rest of the week off.

The Doctor, however, scoffed. “I'm not going.”

“Yes, you are,” Missy told him and gave him a gentle slap on the back. “You've been avoiding these parties for 15 years now, so maybe, if they saw a little more of your face, it might help your career.”

“Or do the opposite,” he muttered under his breath.

“Well, you're going,” his manager determined and then turned her head to look at Clara and Amy. “We'll see you then.”

Clara sighed, but right now, she couldn't even be mad about having to see the Doctor again on Saturday. All she could think about was that for the rest of the week, no one would bother her. Finally, she would have some time to herself.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me give all of you a big cyber group hug for your lovely comments!!! It's so nice to wake up on a beautiful Sunday morning to read about how much you're enjoying the story <3 Thank you, guys!

The Doctor hated parties, at least most of the time. Back in the 80s and 90s, he had attended some of the label events with River, but he hadn't actually been to one of those in almost 20 years. It seemed a mystery to him that Missy was so eager to make him attend one all of a sudden, but he hoped that if he just looked grumpy enough, she would let him off the hook. For now, he was stuck here.

Clutching the bottle of beer in one hand, the Doctor made his way through the crowd and for some reason, he thought that his feet felt especially heavy. It took him a while, but eventually, he figured out that it because the soles of his shoes kept sticking to the floor where people before him had spilt their drinks. Even though the location seemed quite elegant, the crowd and the music surely weren't. He really hated parties.

There wasn't a single person here that he knew or at least he hadn't spotted them yet. Missy had to be somewhere. She wouldn't leave him on his own, would she?

“Wow, you look cheerful!”

The Doctor spun around when he heard someone yell at him over the music and he instantly recognized Clara Oswald. Somehow, she seemed taller than she had the other day and the Doctor let his gaze wander to her feet and noticed the insanely high heels that made him wonder how she could even walk. Tonight, she wore a red dress that seemed short even on her tiny figure and he wasn't entirely sure if her cleavage that was merely covered by lace could still be considered decent. Clara's large eyes were framed by a layer of dark makeup and it made him think that she would have been prettier without it, but as it was, she looked like the rock star she was and he couldn't even think of an insult to throw back at her right now.

“Wanna go somewhere quieter and talk about the album?” Clara asked him.

The Doctor simply shrugged. Somewhere quieter was definitely where he wanted to be right now because the music was beginning to make his head hurt. He watched as Clara turned around and started leading the way and the Doctor chuckled when he realized that she was unsteady on the heels that reminded him of stilts.

“Shouldn't you have worn a pair of shoes you can actually walk in?” he teased her.

“ _What?!_ ” Clara shouted over the music. It was too loud to even insult someone.

The Doctor repeated his sentence, almost yelling into her ear as he did and finally, Clara heard him. At least that was what he assumed, judging by the angry look on her face.

“I mean, you're small, but is that such a bad thing that you would risk breaking your legs?”

“At least I didn't come here in my pyjamas,” she spat and turned towards the bar.

He waited while she ordered a cocktail that was so brightly coloured that it looked borderline toxic and together, they made their way into the back.

 

As soon as the door closed behind him, the Doctor took his first deep breath ever since he had stepped into the label-owned club. The music was still audible, but in here, it had been reduced to an annoying thrumming in the background. At least it was quiet enough to talk. As the Doctor looked around, he realized that this area looked just as elegant as the rest of the club, but instead of a dance floor, there was a bar and several sets of chairs and tables, about half of them occupied. He figured that this was where people came to make deals or just to have a quick chat.

Clara took a spot in a remote corner and set her drink down in front of her. The Doctor followed her example and for a long moment, neither of them even said a word. The more time passed, the more the Doctor became aware of the way people were looking at them and he took a nervous sip from his beer just to cover up the awkwardness of the situation. But then he noticed that they weren't looking at him at all, but at the young woman in his company. Clara seemed to draw in everyone's gaze in her revealing, red dress and the fact that he didn't like her, didn't make him blind or stupid. She was an incredibly attractive woman and the Doctor knew what was going through the minds of the men around them and for some reason, it bugged him a little. Clara was here with him and they had their album to talk about.

The album. Even though he knew that it would probably turn into a successful one, the Doctor still couldn't quite believe that it was happening. They didn't get along. Clara was so much younger, so much more successful than him. And she had a lot more talent. Back at the studio, when she had started to sing, the Doctor had felt like a failure next to her. If anyone was going to buy the album, it would be because of Clara, not because of him.

“So, uhm,” he hesitated. “We should probably get together and, uhm, write some songs. Or at least talk about the direction we wanna take.”

“Yep,” she agreed and sipped her cocktail through the straw.

The Doctor looked at her in the dim light of the bar as she pursed her lips to drink. Somehow, she looked so tiny next to him, so fragile that he almost forgot how she attacked him every time they spoke and the fact that they hated each other didn't mean that he couldn't appreciate how pretty she was. Somehow, it brought a smile to his face.

“What are you smiling at?” she asked him and for once, there was no hostility in her voice.

The Doctor laughed. “What? I'm not allowed to smile now?”

Her features turned into a broad grin. “I feel like we've had this argument before. We're going in circles.”

“Look at that, three conversations and we've already run out of insults.”

“I could always insult the size of your dick,” Clara suggested with a shrug.

“Careful,” the Doctor chuckled. “You don't want anyone to think we're flirting.”

His remark made her laugh, but Clara didn't reply. Instead, she discarded the straw and took a proper sip out of her glass. It reminded the Doctor that his beer was growing warm in his hand and he finished the bottle in one go. As if he had felt it, a waiter appeared next to them to pick up their empty glasses. A refill arrived within the next minute.

“So, uhm-”

“Please don't defend the size of your dick,” Clara interrupted him.

The Doctor frowned at her in reply, but when Clara started to laugh, he realized that she had made another joke. He had fallen for it.

“You seem quite obsessed with that topic,” he remarked. “One could almost think you're in a dry spell. Are you scaring all the men away with your attitude?”

An expression crossed over her face, one that he couldn't quite understand. It was almost as if she had suddenly remembered something, but quickly brushed the thought aside. Then, a smile spread across her lips.

“Look around you,” she told him. “Do you really think I'm scaring them away?”

The Doctor glanced around the room and confirmed that the men were still watching her. Even though Clara ignored their looks, she was still aware of them. She looked gorgeous tonight and she knew it. Her looks almost made him forget why he hated her.

“No,” he replied eventually and then granted her a smile as well. “And yet you're sitting here with me.”

She chuckled. “You're not anything special, Doctor,” Clara told him, laughing. “You're just like any other man in this room. If anything, you're more annoying.”

“Then why are we still talking?” he half barked at her and instantly felt the urge to slap his hand across his mouth. For some reason, he didn't want to leave. He wanted them both to stay right here. Oh God, a part of him even enjoyed their bickering.

Maybe. . . maybe they were flirting after all?

The possibility suddenly sent both his mind and his heart racing. Clara Oswald was sitting right in front of him, giving him a strange smile that he hadn't seen on her face before the Doctor wasn't sure what to think. He didn't like her, but that didn't mean he couldn't desire her because he did. Right now, her short dress, her ruffled hair, that look she was giving him, the way she straightened her shoulders to give him a better look at her cleavage, it made him desire her. He thought about it, about wrapping his arms around his small waist, about pressing her against a wall with his own body, about kissing her until she ran out of breath and the idea made his cock twitch in his pants. But he was torn out of his thoughts when Clara spoke again.

“Good question. Why are we still talking?” she asked with a smile before she reached for her drink and finished it before she abruptly rose from her seat.

Before the Doctor knew what was happening, Clara reached for his arm and pulled him into a standing position. He could do nothing but follow while she led the way out of the bar and he hoped that she didn't notice how his hands were trembling in excitement.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so, so much for all your kind comments! I hope you know that every single one of them still brings a smile to my face :D For those of you asking about Danny Pink: he's listed in the character tags, so he will appear/be mentioned at some point. What his role is, well, you'll just have to wait and see ;)
> 
> Now, are the Doctor and Clara gonna dance or are they gonna "dance"?

Clara thought she must have gone mad. A part of her truly couldn't believe what she was about to do and her heart was dancing wildly inside her chest as she led the way into the back. But there was no turning back now, was there? She was too curious. As soon as this crazy spell lifted, they would probably regret it and go back to their bickering, but right now, there was only one thing she really wanted to do.

“Wh-where are we going?” the Doctor stammered as she tightened her grip on his arm.

Where were they going? That was an extremely good question. The bathroom was too crowded, someone would most likely walk in on them. The street behind the club was too cold on this spring night. But maybe. . .

“We'll see,” Clara replied breathlessly and couldn't help but giggle when she opened a door and spotted a small storage space for brooms, spare bulbs and cleaning supplies. It would do.

“In here,” she told him and the Doctor was probably still a little too baffled by her actions because he did as he was told. Clara switched on the scarce light and locked the door.

She watched him look around the room for a moment, frowning at the sight while he still seemed uncertain about what they were doing here.

“Uhm, that's. . . that's nice,” he spluttered and Clara realized in relief that he seemed just as nervous as she was.

“Shut up,” she told him, giggling with excitement. Clara couldn't believe that she was actually trembling a little and she thought that it must have been ten years since she had last been nervous about kissing a boy. But the Doctor wasn't a boy. He was a man, one she didn't even like. The whole idea was utterly insane.

“Wh-what are we doing here?” he wanted to know.

“As much as I hate to admit it,” she said breathlessly, “you're hot. You're annoying and infuriating, but you're hot.”

The Doctor raised an eyebrow at her in reply and for a moment, Clara feared that she might have misjudged him. Oh God, if she had, their album was doomed. If she made a pass and he declined her offer, she would never be able to look him in the eye ever again.

Then, he let his gaze wander over her body and the longer it lingered, the more clearly Clara could see that tiny spark of curiosity and maybe even desire in his eyes.

“Oh, fuck it,” she cursed and then approached him before she could change her mind and sanity had a chance to get a hold of her.

Clara pushed him against the nearest wall, a small space in between one shelf and the next, and pressed their lips together in a kiss. If the Doctor was surprised, he didn't show it. In a swift movement, he turned them around and Clara found herself with her back to the wall while the Doctor pressed his body against her own. He opened his mouth to her and let her in. She thought she could still taste the beer on him, the taste mingling with that of her sweet cocktail as their tongues met. Even though they couldn't talk, Clara had the feeling that they were still fighting and reached up to anchor her hands in his hair, pulling it until he uttered a sound that seemed to shoot straight through her. The Doctor was a good kisser, in fact, he was great and she hated to admit that she was enjoying their encounter a lot more than she would have thought. His hands were on her hips, keeping her in place while he was grinding against her body and the heat between them was becoming a little unbearable.

When their lips parted, Clara found herself gasping for air but still, the rest of his body wouldn't budge. She wasn't quite sure whether she loved or hated him for it because her skin was beginning to tingle and she was starting to crave his touch.

The Doctor lowered his lips to her neck and sucked her skin maybe a little too hard, but Clara found that she had run out of ways to protest. She let her head fall back against the wall as he kissed his way down and uttered a sigh when she could feel his hand on her leg. Here they were, in the broom closet of the club, making out like a pair of silly teenagers.

“I hate you,” she laughed breathlessly as his hand made its way up beneath her skirt and Clara spread her legs a little wider to grant him access. She wanted him to touch her more than anything right now even though she hated herself for it just a little.

“So do I,” the Doctor growled and Clara had no time to brace herself before he crushed their lips together once again. At the same time, his hand had reached its goal and he was beginning to rub her clit through her damp knickers.

She moaned into his mouth, a sound of both arousal and frustration while he was teasing her with his long, elegant fingers. Just the thought of having them inside of her was enough to send her mind racing. Clara couldn't remember the last time she had wanted someone to fuck her as badly as she wanted it right now. His kiss, his touch, they were stirring her arousal in a way she hadn't felt in years. In her frenzy, Clara bit down on his lip.

“Ow,” the Doctor hissed instantly and pulled away. He was panting, but a moment later, he was grinning at her. “Beast.”

“Take off your trousers,” she demanded, utterly out of breath, and to her surprise, the Doctor's eyebrows shot up.

“What? So you can make fun of my dick?” he asked, chuckling.

“Doctor-”

Her sentence was cut short when his finger found a way past the waistband of her knickers and slowly slid between her wet folds. Instead of scolding him for bickering, Clara drew in a sharp breath as the sensation made her lose track of what she had meant to say. His movements were slow and deliberate, meant to tease her, to work her up until she begged him. Was that what he wanted? To make her beg?

Clara gasped as he entered her and she tried to move and grind against him, but his other hand was holding her by the hip and he still had her cornered between his body and the wall. The Doctor was an arse, but he knew exactly what he was doing to her. Maybe it was his age and the experience that came with it, maybe he just had a natural talent for it, it didn't matter as long as he didn't stop. With every moment that passed, with every little movement, Clara sank deeper into her frenzy and her breath was beginning to come out ragged as the Doctor lowered his mouth to neck again. She moaned loudly when he sucked hard enough to leave a mark. It was too much. The heat between them, the scent of his aftershave, his touch and the feeling of slowly losing her mind that came with it. She wanted more. She wanted to feel him, all of him.

Clara gathered up her strength and pushed him off her. Obviously, she had caught him by surprise because the Doctor stepped back, the absence of his touch almost painful right now, but that wasn't what she had intended. In a swift movement, she reached for his belt and pulled him back. She fumbled a little, but eventually, his belt and trousers came undone and both dropped to the floor. A smile spread across her face when she saw the outline of his erection under his pants and it filled her with an excitement for what was to come.

“Guess I was wrong about the size,” she remarked cheekily.

The Doctor was back on top of her in a matter of seconds, grinning at her. When he looked at Clara, she noticed that his pupils were wide in arousal and the sensation of his cock pressed against her, albeit it was through layers of clothing, made her sex itch with desire for him.

“I think a thorough check is in order,” he breathed while his hands were busy pulling down his pants. Clara hastily reached down to do the same with her knickers. “To disprove your theory.”

Clara uttered a sound of surprise when he lifted her up and slammed her back against the wall. In a quick movement, she wrapped her legs and arms around him, her hands anchoring in his hair once again. Their lips clashed in an almost brutal kiss while he sank into her and Clara moaned into his mouth when he finally filled her up. It was rough, it was desperate, it was exactly what she had wanted, exactly what she needed right now. The stupid Doctor with his stupid bickering and his stupid music. Clara disliked him more with every passing second and still, he was the best damn thing she had felt in years.

He groaned on top of her as he increased his pace, driving into her with a zeal she had never expected of him. She was running out of breath, panting and whimpering against his lips, but she didn't want to stop kissing him. Just for a moment, there was nothing else. Just her and the Doctor and the feeling of slowly derailing underneath his touch. It was raw and it was blissful at the same time as he thrust into her at an ever increasing speed.

Clara clawed at his hair when she thought she was going to come, but the climax wouldn't quite happen, not yet anyway, but she was close and getting closer. She tightened her muscles around him, prompting the Doctor to moan in frustration. He was losing his rhythm as he was beginning to close in on his own orgasm and suddenly Clara felt as if she was hit by a wave. She attempted to cry out, but the sound got stuck in her throat and only came out as a whimper when the orgasm came over her, yet the Doctor didn't stop. Instead, he kept diving into her at a desperate pace, riding out her climax until Clara thought she might burst from this maniacal feeling of pure and utter ecstasy. Then his moments came to a sudden halt and the Doctor uttered a low groan when he spent himself.

Clara was still panting when the Doctor set her down and they both picked their underwear off the floor to get dressed. Neither of them said a word for a long moment until they had put their clothes back on and run out of ways to stall the inevitable, awkward bit of conversation that was sure to follow.

“I, uhm, I should probably go and find Amy,” Clara reasoned, not sure what else to say. She could tell him that she had enjoyed herself, but a part of her didn't want to give him the satisfaction even now.

“And I should go home,” he replied. His mouth remained open as if he was about to say something else, but he probably felt the same way she did. They didn't like each other. They should just go their separate ways now before either of them said anything stupid that they would later regret.

“See you around,” Clara said hastily and the darted out of the door without even looking back.

 

When Clara stepped out of the bathroom after checking her hair and the undeniable lovebite on her neck, she wondered how on earth she was going to find Amy in the crowd. Then she promptly ran into her.

“Hey, I've been looking all over for you!” her friend exclaimed. Clara had hoped that it would be too dark for anyone to notice the mark on her neck, but of course that was the first thing Amy saw. “Oh my God, lover boy did a good job there.”

Clara forced a smile. She didn't want to think about that now. She couldn't.

“Hey, how about we get some drinks?” she suggested instead. “I feel like this is the perfect night to get drunk.”

“You say that every time we go out,” her manager argued.

“And I'm right most of the time,” Clara said, then frowned. “Except maybe that one time we couldn't get a taxi and had to walk home. That was probably not the best night to get drunk.”

She was rambling. She was nervous and she was rambling because she didn't want to think about what had happened earlier. Clara really needed a drink before Amy noticed that something was wrong.

“We were supposed to find the Doctor and talk about the album,” she replied. “Or have you found him already?”

“Nope,” Clara replied maybe a little too quickly. “He probably bailed on us. You saw that he wasn't really eager to come.”

Amy uttered a sigh. “Yeah, you're right,” she agreed. “Let's get a drink.”

As they made their way towards the bar, Clara tried her best to erase the Doctor from her mind for the remainder of the night. She would just do what she always did: drink and deal with the consequences later.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys so much for the amazing comments :) I had a feeling you would enjoy that particular chapter. Now, let's see how they deal with the aftermath. . .

The Doctor had fucked up on many occasions in his life, but never on a scale as big as this. Clara Oswald. Oh God, why on earth had he done that? Now, on top of not liking each other, they would have to deal with the inevitable awkwardness after their one-night stand. He really wasn't the best at making decisions.

Of course, it had been Clara's decision as well. It had even been her idea, but it was just as much his fault for going along. Why had he done that? Oh yeah, she had looked gorgeous and apparently, that was all it took to make him stop thinking with his brain these days. But despite the regret on the morning after, it had been one hell of a night.

“Are you even listening to me?”

Missy's voice made him look up and suddenly, the Doctor remembered that he wasn't still in his flat, brooding over what he had done, but in a small café around the corner with his manager. He took a sip from the coffee mug in front of him.

“Uhm, sure,” he replied hesitantly even though he hadn't actually heard a word.

“Where were you last night?” Missy wanted to know.

The Doctor uttered a heavy sigh and set his mug back down before he looked at Missy. “I was there, okay? I came to the party just like you told me to,” he said defensively. “I couldn't find you, so I left. You know I'm not a fan of these events.”

“Well, you should have stayed for a bit longer. I talked to Amy last night to let her know that I scheduled a little photo shoot for you and Clara next week.”

He groaned in response. “Do we really have to?”

“Yes,” his manager replied sharply. “Cause I don't want them to use these five-year-old photos of you when we announce the album in a few weeks. It's time for some new ones and Clara might as well be in them.”

The Doctor opened his mouth to protest, but Missy cut him off before he had a chance.

“Whatever issues you have with that girl, leave them at home. Be a professional for once.”

“She's annoying,” he argued.

“Well, so are you,” Missy retorted. “A match made in heaven.”

He cleared his throat when he suddenly thought of something he had meant to ask Missy for a while now, but as usual, he felt uncomfortable to do it. The Doctor was grown man, he was a proud man and he hated begging.

“Listen, Missy-”

“How much do you need?” she asked as if reading his thoughts. Had he really asked her for money so often that she already knew what was coming just by looking at him?

“Well, I'm gonna play three gigs Thursday to Saturday, so I will definitely pay you back afterwards,” he explained and then paused. God, he really hated begging. “I just need to buy some food for the rest of the week.”

Without hesitation, Missy opened her purse and shoved £100 across the table. However, as he attempted to reach for the money, his manager held it back.

“How about you pay me back £50 and see the rest as a bribe? Be nice to Clara Oswald, make this album work. It will make this entire problem disappear, trust me.”

The Doctor cracked a smile. “I can't promise she'll do the same,” he replied, but still, Missy let go of the money so he could pocket it.

“I don't even know why I'm wasting my time with you,” she said with a defeated sigh.

“Cause you like me and you believe in my talent?”

“Shut up and buy some food,” his manager told him sternly. “You look like the stick figure in a children's drawing.”

He smiled at her once again and reached for his coffee mug. Missy might be demanding and harsh at times, but her heart was in the right place, at least when it came to him. Yet how he was going to keep his promise concerning Clara, the Doctor wasn't quite sure, especially after what had happened at the party last night. He had a distinct feeling that things would only get more awkward.

* * *

“Thanks,” Clara mumbled and swallowed the painkiller with a glass of water while she considered herself lucky that Amy was her manager as well as her best friend. “I didn't do or say anything embarrassing last night, did I?”

Apart from sleeping with the Doctor, even though that had been stupid rather than embarrassing, but right now Clara was hoping that she hadn't blabbed about it afterwards. She didn't remember much after ordering those tequila shots.

“Nah, just the usual,” Amy replied and handed her a cup of coffee. “There was drinking and dancing mostly, nothing more.”

“Good,” she said and breathed a sigh of relief. Amy didn't know about the Doctor. She could never know what had happened. “Thanks for letting me crash here.”

“Oh, before I forget, I talked to my aunt Missy at the party yesterday while you were dancing with Ed.”

Clara raised her eyebrows at her manager. “I danced with Ed? Ed who?”

“Ed Sheeran.”

“Oh, right,” she uttered. There was the vague memory of a redhead in the back of her mind and Clara thought that it could have been worse. At least it meant that she probably hadn't told anyone about the Doctor. Unless _he_ had. “So, what did you and your aunt talk about?”

“She scheduled a photo shoot for you and the Doctor on Thursday morning. Are you up for that?”

Clara took a large sip from the coffee Amy had handed to her. It was strong and bitter, just the way she liked it and she took a moment to savour the taste. “Do I have a choice?” she asked eventually.

Her manager shook her head. “Look, I know you and the Doctor had a rocky start, but hearing you two practice together, that was _amazing_. The album is gonna be incredible, trust me.”

“I trust you,” Clara replied in a quiet voice. “But you're right, we don't really get along.”

Which made what had happened last night utterly insane. Even now, Clara couldn't say what had gotten into her and even though she knew that as soon as they saw each other again, they would both regret the encounter in the storage room, but there was one other thing Clara knew for certain: the sex had been nothing short of mind-blowing. Which was why it could never happen again.

“Well, it won't be a big shoot. Basically, it's just gonna be two or three photos of the two of you together to give to the papers and stuff when we announce that you're working on the album.”

She sighed. “Fine,” Clara replied grumpily. “I suppose we'll survive.”

“Good,” Amy concluded happily and suddenly, a broad smile appeared on her face that made Clara wary. The longer it laster, the more suspicious she grew of it and raised her eyebrows in response. “So, are you gonna tell me how you came by that big-ass lovebite? I didn't know lover boy came to see you yesterday.”

“Can we not talk about him? My head hurts enough as it is,” Clara growled in a tone that was a little more defensive than she had expected. She didn't want to talk about him, she didn't even want to think about him.

If last night had proven anything, then that Clara was the worst person in this entire world and maybe, working with the Doctor was her punishment for all the sins she had committed over the past two years.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the sweet comments :) Let's see how their first meeting after their. . . encounter will go:

When the Doctor turned around the corner, he briefly considered the possibility that he had gotten the time wrong because there was a small crowd standing in front of the photo studio, obviously waiting to go inside. He was about to pull out his phone and call his manager to confirm his suspicion when he spotted the woman at the centre of the crowd and realized that he had arrived at precisely the right time and that Clara was already here as well, signing autographs in the company of a studio employee who hovered over her like a bodyguard. The Doctor reached them just as a woman in her 40s started talking to Clara.

“Could you sign this CD for my daughter?” the woman asked. “She's only eight, but she's already a huge fan.”

Clara smiled in response as she took the CD to sign it, but somehow, the smile seemed forced. It didn't take a genius to know that she was uncomfortable with the situation. “Of course,” she replied nonetheless. “What's your daughter's name? And why didn't you bring her?”

“It's Charlotte and-”

“Like any good eight-year-old, Charlotte is at school right now, working hard and making her mother really proud,” the Doctor interrupted her sentence and put on the most charming smile he could muster as he looked at the woman.

She smiled back at him, seeming a little nervous all of a sudden. “Yes, she's a good kid,” she replied.

“Oh look, Mr Obvious has finally arrived,” Clara jibed as she threw him a dark glance, but the Doctor had no time to reply when he realized that the mother of the girl named Charlotte was still staring at him as if he had said something awe-inspiring.

“I'm sorry,” she said eventually, still looking straight at him. “You're the Doctor, aren't you? Could I please take a selfie with you?”

The deep frown on Clara's face, along with the little stab of pride he felt for being recognized for once made a gleeful smirk appear on his face, but before he had a chance to agree, Clara spoke again.

“In case you don't know, a selfie is a photo you take of yourself,” she explained, her voice slow as if she was talking to a child.

“Thanks, but I know what a selfie is, Mrs Obvious,” the Doctor hissed and then turned his attention back towards the fan. “Of course. I'd be happy to take a photo with you.”

The woman giggled a little nervously and drew out her phone while the Doctor bent down to be at her level and scowled into the camera. His trademark look. The woman snapped a photo and slid the phone back into her pocket.

“Thank you so much,” she said excitedly. Out of the corner of his eye, the Doctor could see Clara roll her eyes at them. “I've been a fan of your music since the 80s.”

“Doctor, we have to go,” Clara said impatiently. “Makeup is waiting for us inside.”

“Makeup?” he asked, but he never got an answer as she turned around on her heels and headed inside. When the Doctor glanced at the man who had watched over Clara while she had signed the autographs and taken selfies, he was beckoning the Doctor to follow Clara inside. So he did.

 

However, once the Doctor had caught up with her, he found himself standing in a room that looked like a hairdresser's salon. Of course, Clara would want to get her makeup done by one of the present artists.

“Oh, uhm, I'll wait outside then, see if I can find Missy,” he said and gestured towards the door as just another woman walked in.

“You can wait here, Doctor,” she told him in a friendly manner as she approached Clara. “Sylvia will take care of you in a moment.”

While Clara sat down in front of a large mirror and the woman started to inspect her hair, the Doctor thought that he must have heard them wrong. Surely, there had been a misunderstanding.

“I don't need to be taken care of,” he replied, a frown on his face.

The door opened again and a woman who looked like she could be called Sylvia stepped inside and she beamed at him. Yep, that was definitely Sylvia. Behind him, the Doctor could hear Clara chuckle.

“Have a seat, Doctor,” Sylvia told him and gestured towards the chair next to Clara's. “Let's have a look at you.”

“I don't need you to have a look,” he said harshly. “I don't need makeup.”

Still, Sylvia remained smiling at him while Clara's chuckling continued. “It's just a bit of powder and something for the hair.”

“My hair is fine,” the Doctor barked. “And I certainly don't need powder or anything like that.”

“Give up,” Clara told him, the laughter still audible in her voice. “Your manager ordered it, so you're gonna get your makeup and hair done whether you want to or not. She was very insistent.”

The Doctor looked from Clara's amused faced to the other two women who merely nodded in agreement, confirming her statement. Missy. Somehow, he should have known she would do something like this and that was the exact reason he hadn't wanted this photo shoot in the first place. That and Clara's presence while he was being humiliated by a makeup artist. He growled in reply but eventually sank down into the chair because he knew that he was defeated.

“How come you all know about this and I don't?”

“Cause we didn't arrive at the last minute,” Clara replied simply and the Doctor would have loved to throw something back at her, but he was a little distracted when Sylvia started messing with his hair.

“You have some marvellous silver curls, do you know that?”

The Doctor glowered at her through the mirror, but didn't reply and he didn't protest as she opened a bottle of something, claiming it would make his silver hair even more silver. He let her tamper with his hair, he let her use a brush to apply something on his face and he even ignored the fact that Clara was giggling continuously right next to him, no doubt about something that had to do with him. He had promised Missy to at least try to be nice and yet a part of him kept wondering if Clara felt even remotely as strange as he did, if she thought about what had happened in the storage room at all because he certainly did and he wished that he could just erase that particular memory from his head. It would never happen again, so he was better off just forgetting about it altogether and maybe that was what Clara had told herself as well.

 

Luckily for him, the photographer seemed incredibly busy and it was obvious that he wanted to keep this shoot as brief as possible. He led them into the studio and told the Doctor to sit on a chair while Clara was supposed to stand right next to him.

“Your height difference is too big,” he explained. “Gotta do something about that.”

He snapped a picture.

“Alright, could you two look a little less like you hate working with each other?”

“What?” Clara asked.

“You heard him,” the Doctor said and looked up at her. “You absolutely love this and you can't think of anyone you'd rather work with because I'm definitely the most handsome, most charming and most talented musician worldwide.”

His joke had the intended effect. Clara turned her head and laughed at him, but this time, it seemed almost heartfelt. The Doctor had managed to make her laugh and the honest smile almost made her look beautiful.

“I'm sorry, did they paint a new personality on your face while they were doing your makeup earlier? Cause I haven't met the guy you're describing right now.”

“Excellent!” the photographer exclaimed and shot two more pictures. “Now, look into the camera and think about this exciting, new project.”

Suddenly, the Doctor felt Clara's arm on his shoulder as she leaned on him for the photo and he instinctively stiffened up under her touch. The last time they had been in actual physical contact, the only time had been in the storage room of the club and a moment later, she had kissed him. If he focused hard enough, it was as if he could still feel her lips on his own, as if he could still taste her. Clara Oswald was an amazing kisser and even though he knew that it was best to forget about the incident altogether, a part of him didn't even want to. The memory of how she had felt, how he had felt with her was something the Doctor wanted to hold on to forever.

“Perfect!” the photographer announced after a while and looked up from the computer screen next to his workplace. “We got some really good shots. I'll give them to my assistant for the retouch process and send them to your agents in a couple of days.”

“Great,” Clara replied. “Are we free to go or do you need anything else?”

“Nope, we're finished for today. If your agents are happy with the results, I suppose I'll see you two again for the big promotional shoot.”

The Doctor nodded absent-mindedly. Yet another thing to not look forward to.

 

He followed Clara back into the makeup room, but something had changed during the shoot, her touch had changed it and now, he somehow found that he couldn't stop thinking about it, about what they had done last Saturday. It was obvious that Clara was pretending like nothing had ever happened, but he couldn't do that. He just needed to clear it up to get it out of his head, so the Doctor closed the door once they were both alone inside the room.

“Clara, we need to talk,” he announced.

“Yeah,” she agreed immediately. “We never talked about how we're gonna go on with the album and the songs we're supposed to write for that.”

It took him a moment to realize what she was talking about, but eventually, it hit him. Of course. The songs. They were supposed to meet and work on them. Whatever they were going to do, it was most definitely going to be awkward.

“Right,” he breathed in reply.

“I was thinking you could come to my place,” Clara said nonchalantly. “I can't really write anywhere else.”

“Right,” the Doctor said again. That was not the direction which he had thought this conversation would take. He wanted to talk about their encounter on Saturday, but he wasn't sure how he was going to do that when Clara had obviously switched into professional mode.

“How does Saturday evening sound?”

“I, uhm, I have a gig on Saturday.”

To his surprise, Clara chuckled. “A gig?” she asked, her eyebrows raised at him in disbelief. “Don't you mean a concert?”

“Well, it is like a concert, but. . . smaller,” the Doctor argued, still feeling a little confused. But if they met in private, they would have a better chance of talking about what had happened. “Sunday?”

Clara shrugged in response and then picked her bag off the floor and strapped it around her shoulder. “Sunday works. Ask your agent for my address and be there by 8,” she told him and then simply walked past him and out of the door while the Doctor was left on his own, still baffled and just a little speechless. Well, one thing was for sure now. Their one-night stand would most definitely remain just that.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *big group hug for the amazing comments* :)

Clara took a deep breath and checked her looks in the mirror. Why was she checking her looks? Nothing would happen tonight, nothing could happen between them ever again and she didn't even want it to. The Doctor really wasn't her type, she didn't like him, therefore, nothing was going to happen even though the memory of that night at the party was still on her mind. Clara told herself that great sex wasn't everything, that she needed something more from a man than just that and the Doctor certainly couldn't offer love and support. She uttered a small laugh just thinking about it. No, someone like the Doctor really was the last thing she needed right now. When the doorbell rang, Clara checked her watch and realized that it was twenty minutes past eight.

“You're late,” she told him sternly but still held the door open for him to step inside.

The Doctor granted her an apologetic smile as he stepped through and Clara frowned at the look of him. He was wearing those silly plaid trousers again, a different kind this time but no less embarrassing and he had a hoodie hidden under his dark, velvet jacket. If they were ever going to perform on stage together, she would have to insist on the suit she had seen in photographs.

Once inside, the Doctor set his guitar down and ran a hand through his wild, wind-ruffled hair before he started to notice his surroundings.

“ _This_ is your place?!” he asked and glanced around the corner, his mouth open as he stared at her penthouse in awe. “A family of five could live in here!”

“Well, they don't,” she replied and gave him a nudge, gesturing for him to go into the living room. “Sit down.”

Together, they sank down on the sofa and Clara waited for him while the Doctor still seemed too busy looking around and inspecting every little detail of her flat. The longer he looked, the more impatient Clara grew to finally get this over with. She didn't want to be in his company for longer than she had to. In fact, she wanted to flee right now. Sitting next to him, Clara suddenly felt tense and her legs were jittering a little.

“So, any ideas for a song?” she asked, obviously tearing him out of his thoughts because when he turned his head to look at her, it seemed to take him a moment to focus.

“I, uhm, I was kinda hoping we could talk before-”

“If it's about the other night, then no,” Clara cut him off before he had a chance to finish his sentence. “Because there's nothing to talk about.”

She watched as the Doctor raised his pair of very impressive eyebrows at her.

“It was fun, okay?” she admitted, laughing as she did. “I had fun and I'm assuming, so did you. But that's it. We don't like each other, so it would be stupid to assume that there could be a repeat, right?”

“Right,” he agreed after a moment and then put on a smile. “Just what I was gonna say.”

“Good,” Clara concluded. At least they agreed on that. Now, all they had to do was write and record a few songs and then this entire spectacle would be over. “Now that we've cleared that up, songs?”

The Doctor blew the air out between his teeth. “Do you always do it like this? Write songs on demand?”

“Well, we kinda have to,” she admitted and sank back against the backrest of the sofa, exhaling sharply. Next to her, the Doctor did the same thing.

A silence fell over her penthouse that was only interrupted by the low humming sound of the fridge in the next room and the more time passed, the louder the noise seemed to grow in her ears. It wouldn't work. Not like this. She couldn't focus on a single note while the Doctor was sitting next to her.

Clara turned her head to look at him. “We could get some inspiration first?” she suggested.

“How do we do that?”

Without answering his question, Clara jumped up from her seat. “Don't take off your coat. We're going out.”

 

She could tell that the Doctor was confused, that he had no idea what was happening, but Clara couldn't stand to sit in silence next to him for another minute, so she got up, grabbed her phone and called an Uber that would take them to her favourite location in a matter of minutes. She didn't even bother to put on makeup or enlighten the Doctor about where they were going and when they stepped outside her flat, Clara pulled her leather jacket a little closer around her shoulders because the spring air was cooler than she had expected it to be. It had already grown dark.

“What is this?” the Doctor asked carefully when, eventually, the driver stopped in front of a building that, from the outside, looked almost inconspicuous if it hadn't been for the tall man standing guard in front of it. Clara didn't answer him. In a few moments, he would see.

“Who's that?” the doorman asked, nodding towards the Doctor.

“He's here with me,” she told him and the man stepped aside to let them enter.

Once they were inside the pub, Clara uttered a sigh of relief when the warm air surrounded her and she took off her jacket and smiled to herself. Yes, this was a lot better than sitting at home in awkward silence.

“Wait, isn't that Harry Potter?” the Doctor suddenly asked, tearing her out of her thoughts. In horror, she watched him point at a young man who was sitting at the bar.

“God, Doctor!” she hissed and quickly pulled down his arm. “You can't just point at people! Didn't anyone ever tell you how rude that is?”

But to her dismay, the young man had already noticed. Clara granted him an apologetic smile as they passed him.

“Hey Daniel,” she greeted him with a nod. The actor nodded back and raised his pint at her.

When they had arrived at a small table, Clara waved towards the waiter, signing her order in a language they had established in the past few years ever since she had become a regular.

“So, uhm, this is a pub for famous people?” the Doctor wanted to know while still looking around carefully.

“It's a pub where the press and the fans have no access, so, yeah, you could say it like that,” she replied. Even though the Doctor looked a little uncomfortable, he didn't seem nearly as out of place as he had at the label party. Clara figured that it might take him an hour or so, but he would warm up eventually. And to help with the initial awkwardness, the waiter arrived just in time with the tequila shots she had ordered for them. Grinning broadly, she pushed two of them in his direction.

Looking at it suspiciously, the Doctor lifted one of the shot glasses. “This is how you get inspiration?”

Clara downed one of the shots, the alcohol stinging in her throat before she slammed the glass down on the table. “No,” she corrected him. “This is how you start a fun night out that is gonna inspire a song.”

The Doctor shrugged softly. “Alright,” he sighed and emptied his shot glass. His face distorted in a grimace, making the lines on his forehead seem deeper than they actually were. “I prefer Scotch.”

“Next time,” Clara promised him and jumped up from her seat, obviously surprising him with her sudden movement. But now that they were here, Clara didn't actually feel like sitting still. They had to do something to pass the time and she already had the perfect idea.

“Wh-where are you going?” he spluttered in confusion.

“Karaoke,” she replied as if it should have been obvious. “You coming?”

Clara smiled at him, but the Doctor didn't budge. For a moment, she considered making a remark about how old and boring he was but then thought better of it. She held out her hand and, reluctantly, the Doctor took it.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the beautiful comments, especially the one from Whiteasy :) You make me smile so much when I read your comments!!!! Now, let's see if I can make you smile in return with this one:

The Doctor wasn't quite sure what was happening. One moment, he had been dreading an awkward evening with Clara Oswald, the next, time seemed to pass in a blur as he realized he was actually having fun. Of course, it was awkward at first, but he was used to standing on a stage in front of a small crowd and Clara certainly was a natural at it. Some voices were yelling at her that it was unfair, some whistled, but everyone applauded their duet and the Doctor was talked into doing another. And then another. By the time they were finally allowed to leave the stage, both of them were laughing.

The Doctor plopped back into his seat and watched Clara do the same, a broad smile on her lips and her face flushed with excitement. He liked this version of her a lot better than the painted face he saw on posters. While Clara downed her next shot, the Doctor hesitated for a moment. They had work to do, music to write.

“Come on,” she told him, grinning at him. “Let's just focus on the fun part and the rest will happen naturally.”

The Doctor raised an eyebrow at her in response. “I won't have to dance, will I?”

Clara frowned. “God, no. I mean, I'm starting to tolerate you, but I haven't forgotten how you stepped on my foot.”

“Good,” he concluded and finished his shot while Clara waved towards the waiter again. As his gaze shifted over the crowd, the Doctor couldn't help but notice that Harry Potter was still staring at them. “Harry is looking in our direction.”

“His name is Daniel and he would be,” Clara said nonchalantly as the waiter arrived with two more shots for their table. “He made a pass at me a few months ago.”

The Doctor couldn't say why that was, but at her statement, he suddenly felt a little sting in his stomach. To cover up the confusion, he quickly accepted the shot Clara was handing to him and knocked it back like she did. So, that was the kind of man Clara was into. Young, famous actors and musicians. Naturally, a one-night stand with him would be nothing but a silly mistake to her.

“Wanna play darts?” Clara asked him, tearing him out of his thoughts once again. Something had changed about her, it had changed as soon as they had left her penthouse. The Doctor hadn't seen her so active, so excited before and he wasn't entirely sure whether the alcohol was to blame for it or not, but Clara certainly wanted to use the evening's potential to the fullest.

“Uhm, sure,” he replied. Darts was a lot better than karaoke or dancing. “Yes, sure.”

 

When he rose to his feet, the Doctor suddenly felt the room spin around his head for just a brief moment and he realized that the tequila was slowly beginning to kick in. He wasn't used to drinking, but Clara seemed as steady on her feet as ever as she skipped ahead towards the darts board. He scoffed. The Doctor wouldn't let a tiny woman like Clara outdrink him, that was for sure.

When he reached her, Clara had already taken up a number of darts and thrown one at the board. The Doctor's eyes widened a little when she hit close to the bull's eye.

“Wow. How often do you play?” he wanted to know.

Clara shrugged, but still, he could see a smug smile on her face. “Every other week or so,” she replied. “Your turn.”

The Doctor positioned his legs, trying to find a good foothold before he threw the dart. It hit the wall next to the board and fell to the floor with a soft thud. Clara started to laugh next to him.

“You suck at this,” she replied, giggling, and threw the next dart. It landed close to her first.

“Hey,” he complained instantly. “I don't have your kind of practice.”

“Or hand-eye-coordination,” Clara teased.

The Doctor growled and threw the next one. It hit the outer ring, but at least it stuck on the board and didn't fall off again. “I'm probably still better than Harry Potter,” he muttered under his breath.

“He's actually holding the pub record,” she explained with a shrug and before he knew what was happening, Clara was gone. The Doctor scanned the room and found her at the bar, talking to the waiter before she returned with some more tequila.

He uttered a sigh when Clara handed him another shot. “We still have a song to write,” he argued weakly as he watched Clara drink. It was annoying that she seemed to be able to handle her alcohol better than he did. She was better at darts, too, better at everything. It could all be shortened to one simple statement: Clara was annoying.

When she had set down her glass, Clara smiled at him, a giggling sound escaping her sweet lips. Annoying. “Do you wanna write a song or do you wanna beat me at darts?”

Seeing that he didn't have much of a choice right now, the Doctor finished his shot and approached the board again. It had been decades since he had last played this game, but he still remembered some of the rules. He found a good position even though his legs were starting to feel a little wobbly, bent his knees just a tiny bit and raised the dart, preparing to throw it. Then suddenly, the Doctor was knocked off balance as Clara collided with him and it took him a moment to regain his balance. When he turned his head, Clara was giggling.

“Oops,” she laughed and the look on her face told him that it had been anything but an accident.

“Hey, no cheating!” he complained.

Clara leaned sideways, nudging his elbow and she was still laughing. The Doctor tried very hard not to, but still, a smile spread across his face.

“No cheating,” the Doctor repeated as sternly as he could, but with the way Clara was looking at him, all he wanted to do was laugh with her. It was downright contagious. “Let me throw this, okay? I can do it.”

“No, you can't,” she argued, giggling to herself. “Cause you suck.”

“I don't!”

“You suck and you're drunk.”

“No, I'm just being pestered by a dwarf, that's all.”

“Do you need any help?”

The Doctor spun around when he heard the strangely familiar voice, but the movement was too fast for his inebriated state and the room spun around him again before his eyes settled on a short man right in front of him.

“I could give you some advice if you like,” the young man said. “After all, I taught Clara and she thought she was a lost cause in the beginning.”

“Hey, don't spill my dirty secrets,” she complained playfully, laughing as she did. “The Doctor doesn't need to know that.”

“Yeah,” the Doctor agreed eventually. “I don't need your help, Harry Potter. Now move along.”

“ _Uh-oh_ ,” Clara uttered next to him, but for some reason, she still found it amusing as the young man started to frown at him, his gaze growing darker by the second.

“What did you just call me?” Harry Potter demanded to know, crossing his arms in front of his chest while the Doctor wasn't quite sure what was happening. But the young man looked definitely angry.

“I think we should go,” Clara reasoned, but the amusement was still audible in her voice while she reached for his arm and started to drag him away. “Sorry, Daniel!”

 

When they staggered out of the pub and back into the cold night air, the Doctor slowly started to piece the puzzle together even though his mind was a little foggy, but the cool air definitely helped. Harry Potter. He had called him Harry Potter. All of a sudden, he couldn't help but laugh.

“What's so funny?” Clara asked him, but she was chuckling as well and for some reason, she was still clinging to his arm. Not that he minded. He didn't mind at all. Her touch was warm and it felt nice to have her close again. It was nice to hear her laugh.

“I called him Harry Potter, didn't I?”

“Yep,” she confirmed. “Yep, you did. And he's _very_ touchy when it comes to that. I'm afraid you can't come back here anytime soon.”

“So,” the Doctor began carefully as he closed his arm around her waist. To his surprise, Clara didn't protest. He pulled her a little closer. Again, no protest. The tequila was making him either brave or stupid and he found the words escaping his mouth before he could stop them. “Back to your place?”

In response, Clara giggled and beamed at him. “Do you feel inspired yet?”

He did, but not in the way she might expect. In a surge of bravery, the Doctor bent down and crushed their lips together in a kiss. He was sure that Clara would slap him across the face in a matter of seconds, but right now, he didn't even care. He just wanted to feel like he had that night at the party. He wanted to kiss her, sink into her. He wanted her so badly.

Yet to his surprise, Clara opened her mouth to him and he felt himself stumble until his back hit a wall and Clara's body was pressed against his own. Befuddled by the tequila and the sensation of her body heat, it was as if he couldn't find a single clear thought in his head as his blood rushed south in an instant. She was kissing him again and her kiss left him with little doubt as to her intentions. Just when the Doctor thought he was running out of air, Clara broke away from him.

“My place,” she confirmed, panting. “Fast as you can.”

When her lips formed a smile, the Doctor felt his heart skip a little beat and all he could do was grin at her while Clara reached for his hand and dragged him towards the nearest taxi that was already waiting for them.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for your lovely comments, guys :) I have a little bonus chapter for you this week, so let's have a look at their morning after. . .

The Doctor was fighting to stay asleep as hard as he could. Even in his drowsy state, he could tell that his entire body was aching and his head felt as if it was in the process of being crushed by a tank. It was the reason why he rarely drank, the reason why it was a very bad idea to mix tequila and Scotch and we vowed to remember that from now on, but for the time being, he just wanted to sleep. Yet something was keeping him from it, something he couldn't quite determine. Was it the unfamiliarly clean sheets? The mattress that was just a little too soft? The woman lying next to him? Or was it the blaring alarm coming from the other side of the bed?

“Fuck,” Clara growled next to him. She reached out and fumbled with the alarm clock until she finally hit it hard enough and the alarm stopped. The Doctor heard her utter a loud groan, but it was too late now. They were both awake.

He opened his eyes and looked at the bright ceiling while trying to piece together the events of last night. The Doctor remembered the pub and a smile spread across his face when he remembered how much fun they had had. He remembered kissing her and taking her home. The sex had been amazing, just like it had been that night at the party. After that, all he remembered was a fuzzy mess of more drinking and more sex. What a night.

“Ugh, I'm sore,” Clara complained as she rolled on her back. He could tell by the sound of her voice that she had given up on trying to fall back asleep.

He scoffed. “Wait, _you're_ sore? You were the one screaming at me to go harder last night.”

“Yeah, well,” she uttered and rose into a sitting position, “it seemed like a good idea at the time.”

Clara swung her legs out of bed and the Doctor could hear that something hit the floor when she knocked it over with her feet.

“Shit,” she muttered and a moment later she was gone, crouched behind the bed.

“What's wrong?” he asked and sat up as well to get a proper look when Clara came back up and held up the bottle of Scotch. She screwed the cap back on.

“I spilt some. Gonna mop it up,” Clara explained and then turned around and crossed the room, leaving the bottle on her dressing table as she made her way towards the large wardrobe.

Despite his headache, the Doctor couldn't take his eyes off her as she strode across the room, stark naked, every inch of her flawless skin on display right in front of him and suddenly, he felt overcome by the urge to touch her again, to feel her just one more time.

“Come here,” he said softly and Clara turned around and looked at him.

A frown appeared on her face. “What for?”

The Doctor granted her a smile and held out his hand. “Surprise.”

Clara hesitated for a short moment, but eventually, curiosity seemed to win over and she reached for his hand. The Doctor pulled her down on top of him while she uttered a sound of surprise and their lips locked in another kiss. He could feel her smile against his mouth. Somehow, the Doctor thought he might just be caught in a dream because there was no way that he was kissing such a gorgeous woman who was only half his age, a woman that, even though she was annoying and rude, could mess with his head the way she did. It was almost infuriating.

The Doctor hooked his arms around her waist while she straddled his lap and she was so close to the centre of his arousal, so close to where his morning wood was already itching to dive into her. He could have moved past a one-night stand, but after last night, the Doctor just wanted to repeat what they had done over and over again.

“Doctor,” Clara mumbled against his lips and broke away for a moment. “Gotta mop up the Scotch.”

“Later,” he replied and lowered his mouth to her neck. There was a tender spot right under her ear that he had discovered last night, still in the taxi on their way home and it made her moan just like it had last night.

“Doctor, I'm still sore,” she complained weakly, but he could tell by her rapid breathing that he had her right where he wanted her as he kissed his way down her neck. By now, his erection was throbbing with anticipation of what was going to happen again.

“I'll be gentle,” the Doctor promised and in a swift movement, he let himself fall back onto the bed and lifted her up above his head.

While she propped herself up against the headboard and he held her steady by her hips, the Doctor leaned forward and cupped her sex with his lips. Instantly, Clara uttered a low, throaty moan.

“Not fair,” Clara argued feebly as he parted her folds with his tongue. He could hear her heavy breathing even now and it betrayed her in her arousal. “Thank God you're better at this than darts.”

They both chuckled at her remark, but the Doctor was determined not to let it distract him from his goal as he delved his tongue in and tasted her. He took a moment to just explore her, to tease, to see which move prompted a reaction and soon he found that Clara was countering his movements and grinding against his face. When she moaned again, more loudly this time, the sound shot straight through him and he had to resist the urge to reach down between them and tend to his own arousal that was rock solid and aching for her.

“You are-,” she broke off, gasping, “entirely too good at this.”

Just when the Doctor was about to delve his tongue back in, they were rudely interrupted by the doorbell. He could feel that Clara was trying to get up, but he held onto her.

“Doctor,” she warned him, but he just didn't want to let go. “Doctor, stop!”

 

Finally, he let go and Clara instantly jumped off the bed and reached for the robe on the nearby chair before hastily putting it on. Something had changed. She seemed panicked all of a sudden and the Doctor didn't quite understand why.

“Clara, what's-”

“Shut up!” she barked at him while she fastened the robe and then darted out of the room.

Not knowing what else to do, the Doctor followed her despite the confusion. The sudden rush of blood as he jumped out of bed made his head spin, but somehow, he managed to follow her and caught up with Clara just as she glanced at the monitor next to her door. 

“Shit!” she cursed loudly.

The doorbell was rung again and the Doctor looked a little more closely at the young man who was asking to enter. He saw, but he didn't understand and for a moment, Clara seemed frozen on the spot.

Then she pressed the button to open the door and spun around. “Okay, Doctor, listen very, very closely cause I'm not gonna say this again,” she half shouted at him, her voice agitated. Was there a hint of fear in it?”

“You're gonna get dressed right now and you're gonna play along or I swear to God, I will find the most brutal and painful way to murder you,” Clara hissed and raised her index finger as a warning. The way she looked at him suddenly scared the Doctor even though he still didn't know what was going on. “I'm not kidding! I'm gonna bury your body where they will never find it and I don't care that I'm gonna spend the rest of my life in prison, do you understand me?!”

The Doctor only stared at her in disbelief. What on earth had gotten into her?

“Clothes! _Now!_ ”

Not knowing what else to do, the Doctor did as he was told. He went back into the bedroom, gathered the clothes off the floor and put them back on as hastily as he could while Clara, who was pacing the corridor, kept shouting at him to hurry up. Then he heard the front door open.

 

“Hey Danny,” Clara said happily, if a little out of breath and the Doctor walked around the corner just in time to watch her greet him with a kiss.

He stopped dead in his tracks.

No, it couldn't be. The same lips he had kissed only minutes ago were now kissing another man, they were now smiling at the man in a way that made his stomach turn over. The Doctor tried to find a reasonable explanation for it, one that didn't mean he had been played for a fool, but he couldn't find one. The longer he watched them, the more obvious it became that that guy was Clara Oswald's boyfriend. The Doctor felt like he needed to sit down.

“Why are you not dressed?” the man called Danny asked her and then he lifted his head and spotted the Doctor a few steps away. “And who is this?”

Clara cleared her throat. “That's the Doctor, the musician I'm recording the new album with. I told you about him, remember, Danny?” she asked, but her voice was shaking a little and the Doctor wondered how dumb the guy must be not to notice that his girlfriend was utterly nervous. He had to be dumb not to notice that something was wrong.

“You did, but what is he doing here?”

Clara granted her boyfriend an apologetic smile. “I know we agreed on a breakfast date, but I'm gonna have to postpone it.”

Danny groaned.

“I'm sorry, okay? This was a last-minute thing and I didn't know about it until the Doctor woke me up 10 minutes ago to take me to the studio. Trust me, I tried to get out of it,” she said and then turned her head and threw to Doctor a dark glance.

It took him a moment until he realized that she wanted him to confirm the story.

“Right,” he replied eventually and nodded towards the guitar that was conveniently still propped up against the wall of Clara's corridor. “Brought the guitar and all. Totally last minute, but very important.”

Even though he knew that it wasn't his fault, the Doctor suddenly felt dirty. Not only had he unknowingly helped Clara cheat on her boyfriend, but he was now helping her cover it up with lies – this time knowingly.

“Can I trade the breakfast date for a movie night?” Clara asked Danny and the way she gave him puppy dog eyes almost made the Doctor sick. And what was even worse, the dumb guy fell for it.

Danny nodded. “Don't work too hard, okay?”

“I promise,” Clara said with a smile before she went up on tiptoes and pecked him on the lips. The Doctor wanted to vomit all over her carpet.

“See you tonight,” he said and closed the door behind him.

 

The silence that spread across the flat lasted for a minute and the only thing that the Doctor could hear was Clara's relieved breathing and the sound of his own blood rushing through his ears.

“So, I'm assuming that was the boyfriend,” the Doctor said after a while, his voice sharp and a little angrier than he had expected.

“Danny is not my boyfriend.”

“Well, maybe you should tell _him_ that because he certainly seems to think so!” he barked at her. He just couldn't believe what was happening.

“Why are you shouting at me?!” Clara demanded to know. “My relationship with Danny is none of your damn business.”

“You're using the altar boy! You're using him just like you used me last night!”

In response, Clara merely laughed. “Right, that insult isn't even funny. Danny isn't even religious.”

The Doctor raised his eyebrows at her. “Isn't he? Are you sure? Do you even know him that well?”

“Again, Doctor, none of your business!”

“Wrong! You made it my business when you used me to cheat on him!”

Clara huffed in response and crossed her arms in front of her chest. “You're not actually mad because I kept this from you, are you? Is that what this is about? Are you mad because you thought you were the only one? You thought you were something special, that we could be more than this?”

“Certainly not!” the Doctor replied, scoffing. “But believe it or not, I generally like to know what I'm getting into! And on top of lying to me and lying to your boyfriend, you made me lie to him as well! You made me your accomplice, so forgive me, but _your_ business has officially become _my_ business.”

“You know what? I think you should leave now,” Clara spat and reached for the door handle, opening the door before he even had a chance to shout anything back at her.

Yet the Doctor still considered it for a moment before he thought better of it, grabbed his guitar and headed out of the door. He slammed it shut behind himself.

 

As he darted down the stairs, the Doctor thought that his anger would fade away the further he was from Clara Oswald, but the more he thought about it, the angrier he grew. Had he expected to have some kind of relationship with Clara after what had happened last night? He certainly hadn't because the only way they seemed to get along was with their clothes off and that wasn't the type of relationship he had in mind. But at the very least, he had expected honesty and he had been bitterly disappointed.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your sweet and scared comments :) Are the angst alarm bells ringing yet or do you need more?

Clara sank back into Danny's embrace after she had switched off the telly and uttered a content sigh as she nuzzled her head against his chest. If she just focused hard enough, she could suppress the thoughts that she really shouldn't have in his presence and the pang of guilt she felt over what had happened. The Doctor had had every right to be mad because she had cheated and the only comfort she had was that she and Danny weren't _officially_ in a relationship. Not that it helped much with the guilty conscience.

“That was a good movie,” she remarked after a while.

“It was,” Danny agreed. “It could have been a nice breakfast, too.”

“I'm sorry about that-”

“You keep saying that,” he said with a sigh. “Do you realize that this is the first time I'm seeing you since you got back from that tour?”

Clara struggled into a sitting position, because after two years of dating, she knew Danny well enough to know when a discussion was over and when it wasn't. He wouldn't just let it slide, not this time.

“Danny, you knew about all of that when we met, you knew that there would be times when I would be too busy to see you. These last few weeks, I just needed a bit of time to breathe. Do you understand that?”

“Yes, but you weren't breathing. You were heading straight back into the next project. I know it wasn't your idea, but-”

He broke off and Clara watched his gaze wander to her arm where her cardigan had slid off her shoulder and she knew what she was going to find once she looked. A large, dark bruise.

“What happened?” he wanted to know and suddenly, Danny sounded worried as he bent forward and inspected the mark. Clara knew all too well what had happened, but if she told Danny the truth now, she would never see him again. She had to find an excuse that did not involve her cheating on him with the Doctor.

“It's from, uh, the other night,” she replied hesitantly as she racked her brain for a suitable lie. Bruises. How did you come by bruises? It was as if her mind was utterly blank.

“The other night?” he enquired sharply.

“Yes,” Clara said and suddenly, it hit her. “Amy and I went out the other night and. . . I. . . tripped.”

“You tripped?” Danny asked.

“Yes, I tripped. You know, high heels and all. It happens.”

Just like she had expected, Danny sighed and it wasn't a good sound. Quite the contrary. He didn't believe her. He most definitely didn't believe her and any moment now, it was going to turn into a fight.

“Were you drinking that night?” he wanted to know and his voice sounded softer than she had expected.

“What?” Clara uttered in surprise. Suddenly, she felt more confused than ever. “Well, yeah, we went out for drinks. Why?”

“Clara,” Danny said softly and to her surprise, he reached for her hand, squeezing it softly, “I'm worried about you. I know you're unhappy-”

“What makes you think I'm unhappy?” she asked in return.

“I'm worried because I know you're unhappy and you're denying it and-”

“I'm fine,” Clara argued instinctively, the tone of her voice more defensive than she would have expected. She hadn't meant it to come out like that.

“Please, just let me finish, okay?” Danny demanded. He was serious, this conversation was serious. She only had to look at him to know, so she let her shoulders sink in defeat. “I know you hate it all, the business, the media, the attention and I get that. I know it's demanding and I promised to be there for you, but you've got to let me in. You've got to be honest with me. And above all, you've got to tell Amy that you're only human and she can't keep pushing you from one project straight into the next.”

“I'm gonna take a break after this one, I promise.”

“Yeah, you said that the last time and here you are, already working on a new album even before I got a chance to see you,” Danny said, his voice low and serious, but this time, it wasn't an accusation. He was actually worried. “And I think you're dealing with this the wrong way. Instead of asking Amy for a break or having a quiet evening with me, you go clubbing, you get drunk-”

“Everyone gets drunk occasionally,” Clara argued.

“Except that most people do it for fun,” he said. “And I think you're doing it to forget your problems, you're using it as a coping mechanism and that's not healthy. Clara, please look at me.”

With a sigh, Clara raised her head and looked him straight into the eyes. “I'm fine,” she repeated and this time, she almost believed it herself. But it wasn't enough to fool Danny.

To her surprise, he chuckled. “What did I say about being honest?”

“Okay, I will be fine,” she corrected herself. “Just let me get this album over with and then we'll take a long holiday, just you and me and that's a promise. Now stop worrying!”

“Alright,” Danny agreed and Clara sank back against his chest once again while he closed his arms around her. She loved it. Out of everything connected with Danny, she loved his embrace the most, this warm, protected feeling she had whenever he was holding her in his arms.

 

“You know,” Danny said after a while, “maybe it would help if I was a little more present in your life.”

Clara's head shot up in an instant and she knew exactly where he was going with this. She sat up and braced herself for another argument, one they had had several times before and her opinion hadn't changed in the least.

“Danny, stop it right there,” she replied. “I know what you're about to suggest and we've talked about this.”

“Would it be so bad to make our relationship public?!”

“Yes, it would be so bad!” Clara almost shouted back at him, but quickly lowered her voice again. “You're right. You're absolutely right. I hate it! I hate the press attention! I hate getting stopped for autographs in the supermarket! I hate it when people with cameras follow me around! But you know who would hate it even more? You!”

Danny scoffed.

“The press would love us, Danny. They wouldn't leave us alone. They would follow us to the supermarket and to the café, they would follow us to the restaurant on our dates and the next day, your photo would be all over the yellow press. Imagine what your students would say about that!”

That finally managed to shut him up, but Clara wasn't quite done yet.

“Imagine what Courtney Woods would say!”

“Alright, I get it!” Danny argued sharply. “But, seriously, if I had to choose between being in a proper relationship with you and Courtney Wood's silence, I'd choose you.”

Clara uttered a heavy sigh. “Danny, you're my anchor,” she told me.

He rolled his eyes. “Is that one of your many creative ways to avoid saying _I love you_?”

“Shut up! Now you let me finish!” Clara hushed him. “You're my anchor and I need you. You are the only normal thing in my entire life and I need you to keep me grounded. If I drag you into my mess, I will lose you and I can't let that happen. I just need one part of my life to be normal. Please, Danny, be that for me.”

It took him a long moment, but eventually, he nodded. Clara felt a weight drop off her shoulder when she realized it would probably be months before the subject came back up. And when that happened, she would think of something. She always did. Just like she always avoided to say the three words that Danny had wanted to hear for almost two years and she couldn't even explain why.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys so, so, so incredibly much for your amazing comments!!! Reading them always makes my day!!!

“You're doing it wrong, Uncle Johnny!”

The Doctor was torn out of his thoughts when the little girl suddenly yanked the Ken doll out of his hand and then proceeded to hold it against her own Barbie doll, making it seem as if they were kissing.

“They're in love!” Betty told him and then giggled. “She doesn't wanna hold his hand, she wants to kiss him.”

“Excuse me,” the Doctor replied in a pretend hurt tone. “Ken was trying to be romantic.”

The little girl pulled a face and the Doctor reached out and started to ruffle her hair, causing Betty to giggle. Then he noticed that the boy had fallen quiet next to them and he turned around and decided to pay him a little attention as well.

“How about you, Will? How's the castle coming along?”

The boy seemed utterly focused on the task of comparing the foundation of his Lego castle to the picture on the box, but as far as the Doctor could, he wasn't in need of any help at all.

“We're getting there,” Will replied absent-mindedly and put another brick on the roof of his first tower.

 

The door to the room opened and the Doctor looked up to see Donna stick her head through the crack. She smiled at the three of them.

“Dinner is almost ready. Any volunteers for setting the table?”

“Here,” the Doctor replied instantly and raised his head. “I'll take it. Ken is much too unromantic for my taste.”

“Hey!” Betty complained.

He chuckled one more time and then followed Donna into the kitchen where the heavenly smell of a home-cooked meal already filled his nose. He hadn't actually eaten anything since breakfast and his stomach was growling at a terrible volume.

“If you had announced you'd stop by, I'd have made your favourite,” Donna told him. “Or cleaned up this tip.”

“It's fine,” the Doctor reassured her and hissed when he felt a sudden nudge in the ribs. “Ow!”

“It's not fine! I hate unannounced visitors. Every woman with kids hates unannounced visitors!”

“Donna, I couldn't care less about the state of your house,” he reassured her instantly. “I just needed to get out of the city for a few days, spend some time with family, that sort of thing.”

Still, she glowered at him. Donna was good at that, glowering. She always had been.

They had been friends ever since the Doctor could remember and as a child, Donna had been like the little sister he never had. Dropped off at his parents' house by her family, they had spent almost every school break together. Even now, so many decades later, the Doctor still loved her more than anyone else.

“I still can't understand why you'd choose to sleep on my tiny sofa when you have a lovely house just a stone's throw away from here, a house that is still waiting for you, in case you forgot,” Donna remarked, tearing him out of his thoughts.

“The house isn't an option,” he replied instantly. “And I don't care about the sofa, really.”

Just as he was about to grab a pile of plates and start setting the table, Donna pushed herself into his field of vision and blocked the path, her arms crossed in front of her chest. There was that stern look on her face again.

“It's been fifteen years,” she said. “How long do you want to hold on to that silly promise?”

“Until I can fulfil it,” the Doctor argued a little more loudly than he had intended. He quickly cleared his throat and then raised an eyebrow at his friend. “What? I haven't given up hope yet.”

His friend sighed audibly and her features softened a little. “Isn't there anyone?”

Slowly, the Doctor shook his head.

“Oh, Johnny.”

“What?” he asked defensively. “It's not like I've been celibate for the past fifteen years. I just haven't met the right one yet.”

“And you're sure you don't want to sell the house?” Donna enquired. “I mean, I'm sure you could use the money and I'm starting to feel a little bad about using it-”

“Don't,” he told her sincerely. “I can't afford a housekeeper and you and your family are welcome to use it anytime you like as long as you dust off the shelves from time to time.”

When Donna looked like she was about to protest again, the Doctor cut her off before she had a chance.

“Enough about me,” he said. “How is Lee? How are both of you?”

The smile returned to her face at last and it made the Doctor happy to know that at least one of them had managed to find love and start a family. He had had that once and the loss of it still hurt sometimes even after fifteen years.

“Lee is well, both of us are, the kids are a nuisance,” Donna explained, smiling softly. “He's working the night shift this week, but I let him know that you're staying here for the weekend so he doesn't take you for a burglar.”

The Doctor granted her a smile. “That's reassuring.”

However, when Donna placed her arms on her hips and raised her eyebrows at him, he knew that the topic would shift back. She wasn't buying his story of just wanting to visit. She wasn't buying it at all.

“And you're sure everything's okay?” his friend wanted to know.

He sighed. “Well, it's the usual.”

“Money?”

“I'm getting by,” he explained. “I had a couple of gigs, so the numbers on my bank account have the right colour. And I have this new project going on that will probably bring in some more money.”

“Oh, right,” Donna replied. There was an excitement in her voice that told him she wasn't going to drop the subject any time soon. But Clara Oswald was the last thing he wanted to think or talk about right now. He had come here to escape her, to escape the fact that his thoughts were circling around everything that had happened. “It's the album with that famous chick, isn't it?”

The Doctor nodded.

“How is she? Is she any good?”

He scoffed. “She's a bitch, I can tell you that much. She's rude and annoying and she treats everyone like she's better than the rest of the population.”

For a moment, Donna simply looked at him, the frown on her forehead deepening with every passing second. She was trying to read his mind, trying to extract more information from him, but the Doctor wasn't willing to give her any.

“There's nothing going on between you two, is there?” she enquired curiously.

“I just told you that I don't like her,” the Doctor argued. “How on earth would you jump to that conclusion?”

His friend shrugged. “I don't know. She just sounds like your type.”

“Well, she's not,” he replied and finally, the Doctor decided to do what he had come here for. He made his way past Donna and towards the kitchen table where he neatly placed one plate next to the other in the neatest way possible.

“You still slept with her, didn't you?”

The Doctor spun around and glared at his best friend. For a moment, he even considered telling her the truth, telling her how they had bickered, how they had slept with each other and how she had treated him afterwards. He was still angry about her behaviour, angry that she had dragged him into her mess, angry that she had made him lie for her. But above all, the Doctor was angry because he felt like he should have seen it coming. A woman like Clara wouldn't want a man like him. To her, he was the one-night stand who had overstayed his welcome and he wanted to curse himself because, for a brief moment, he had hoped for more just like Clara had said.

“I don't wanna talk about it,” he replied and when Donna opened her mouth, he already feared the worst.

Luckily for him, two hungry children burst into the room at exactly the right moment to save him from the discussion and he would do his best to avoid this topic for the rest of the weekend. After all, the Doctor had come here to take his mind off Clara.

“What do you say, kids?” the Doctor said happily. “Feel like going to the zoo with your Uncle John tomorrow?”

“ _Yes!_ ” the siblings screamed instantly, but the Doctor didn't miss the look Donna threw him right before she set the pot down in the middle of the table. It didn't matter. Somehow, he would still manage to avoid the subject and if not, he would get the children to help him with the distraction.


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *group hug* Thank you for the comments :)

A guilty conscience was a terrible thing and it was the only reason Clara had let Danny talk her into going out to get a cup off coffee and she regretted it as soon as they had stepped into the street. As far as Clara could tell, no photographer was following them but still, she refused to hold Danny's hand in public. Even if a photo of them ended up in the newspapers, she vowed not to give them any reason to assume she and Danny were in a relationship.

“Stop looking so grumpy,” Danny said once they stepped inside the café. “We'll have coffee in a moment.”

“I'm not looking grumpy,” she complained in a low voice. Just by glancing around, Clara could tell that at least three people were staring at her, probably wondering why her face looked so familiar. “I just want to go back home and I don't understand why we had to go out for coffee. I have a perfectly nice and expensive coffee maker at home.”

Danny chuckled next to her. “Cause fresh air is healthy.”

Clara rolled her yes. Right now, she couldn't even tell whether Danny only had her best interest in mind or whether he wanted to be spotted in public in her presence because then she would have to admit to their relationship. But knowing Danny, it was probably the first option. He was an idiot, but there was one thing Clara was certain of: he truly cared about her and it made Clara feel even worse about what she and the Doctor had done. Danny was the perfect boyfriend. He was gentle and kind and loving and Clara knew that she should be crazy about him, but for some reason, she wasn't. She didn't love him as much as she wanted to love him. Danny deserved better, but Clara was too selfish to set him free because, in her own, twisted way, she needed him.

“Excuse me, could I take a selfie with you?”

Clara looked up and spotted the pimply face of a teenage boy. He was stammering and looked thoroughly terrified and Clara wondered how on earth he had gathered the courage to talk to her. She forced a smile.

“I could take a photo of you together,” Danny offered before Clara even had a chance to turn the boy down.

It had happened before. Clara had agreed to take a selfie that, of course, had ended up on social media in a matter of minutes and shortly after, she had been surrounded by fans who had managed to identify the area and tracked her down. That was why she often turned down their requests for a photo and Clara guessed that she would have to enlighten Danny about the consequences of a simple selfie sooner rather than later. But for now, she was just going to have to suck it up.

Clara placed her arm around the boy's shoulder and turned his back in the direction of the bathroom door, figuring that it served well as an unidentifiable background. While the teenager handed his phone to Danny, Clara put on a smile and waited for the clicking sound that would announce the end of this torture.

 

“You can't just agree to a selfie with a random stranger,” Clara scolded him in a hushed voice when Danny handed her a cup of coffee a few minutes later.

“Why?” he wanted to know. “He asked nicely.”

Clara opened her mouth to explain it to him, but as Danny opened the café door and she stepped outside, Clara bumped right into a man who was trying to enter from the street. Ready to apologize to him, she lifted her head and spotted the one person she hadn't expected to see. Clara swallowed the apology.

“You,” she spluttered. The rest just came out automatically. “Still no eyes in your head, I see.”

The Doctor seemed just as surprised to see her and for a moment, he didn't say a thing. The more time passed, however, the more his face turned into a frown as his gaze darkened. All of a sudden, Clara felt a little nervous. He had lied for her, he had helped her cover up their. . . whatever it was, but Clara hadn't heard from him after their fight and she got the distinct feeling that he was still mad at her.

“If I'm not mistaken, you bumped into me,” he replied after a while, his voice cutting through the air like a knife. Then the Doctor's gaze shifted towards Danny and for a brief moment, Clara thought her heart would jump out of her chest. He wasn't going to say anything, was he? “Are you on your way to church or why's the altar boy with you?”

“Altar boy?!”

“Danny is my boyfriend,” Clara told him for lack of anything else to say. “Doctor, you can't talk to him like that!”

In return, the Doctor raised his eyebrows and even though he never said a thing, Clara could read one single sentence from his face alone: _Well, you've clearly changed your opinion over the last week_.

Clara groaned. “What are you doing here?” she asked, her annoyance audible.

“Me?” The Doctor scoffed. “I was just on my way to get coffee. You stepped on my foot and started pestering me again.”

“Hey, you can't talk to her like that!” Danny argued instantly, but Clara placed her hand on his arm in a calming gesture. She didn't need him to get involved in their nasty fight.

“My sincerest apologies,” Clara said, her tone sharp and mocking. “I'm terribly sorry if I scratched your precious Doc Martin boots and I will send you a check to pay for a new pair that doesn't look like you've been wearing it since the 80s.”

“Don't bother,” he snarled and pushed past her into the café.

 

When he was out of sight, Clara took her first real breath ever since their encounter, but she still felt too angry to calm down. The evening at the pub had made her think they could finally get along, but if their fight and the recent encounter had proven anything, then that it was obviously not the case. And what was even worse, Clara still couldn't stop thinking about the two nights they had spent together. Somehow, she doubted that she would ever be able to forget and just the thought about it made her want to kick the nearest wall really hard. She shouldn't fancy him, but she did.

“The Doctor is extremely rude,” Danny remarked when they had walked for a while and she turned her head to look at him. It seemed as if she wasn't the only one who couldn't just shake the meeting.

“Don't waste your time thinking about him,” Clara said and it was a piece of advice she herself should take to heart. “He's always like that.”

“He wasn't that rude when I met him last Monday.”

“Yeah, well,” she replied and racked her brain for a good excuse, “he's tolerable before his morning coffee, then the idiocy kicks in.”

“How can you even work with him?” he wanted to know and it seemed like a genuine question, but Clara was tired of talking about the Doctor, she was tired of thinking about him and above all, she was tired of the fact that every night when she went to sleep, she started craving his touch and his kisses while she imagined all the ways in which he had pleased her.

“Can we stop talking about the damn Doctor?” Clara spat. “It's bad enough that I'll have to see him again soon.”

“Maybe you should ask Amy to cancel the album,” Danny suggested but Clara hardly heard him when the phone vibrated in her pocket. Clara pulled it out and looked at her screen.

**The Doctor**  
_Wanna get together and work on our songs tonight?_

Clara huffed. That man had some nerve. Without replying to him, Clara slid the device back into her pocket and resumed her stride. No, she would leave him hanging for at least a week so he had time to think about his manners. Coincidentally, it would also give her time to finally get that rude bastard out of her head.


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hehehe your comments and your speculations really brighten my mood while I'm confined to my sofa with a nasty case of flu, so please, keep them coming! They cheer me up immensely!

The Doctor hated parties. That was usually his first thought when he entered one and most of the time it stayed with him for the duration of the entire event. Tonight would be no different, he suspected, but Missy hadn't allowed him to say no. A few days ago, the Rolling Stone magazine had announced their collaboration in the form of a joint album and instantly, it had started raining invitations on the Doctor's head. Now here he was, at the mansion of a famous producer, wearing his trademark three-piece suit and not actually knowing what to do.

As the Doctor walked further into the room, he scanned the crowd for a familiar face and instantly spotted Missy. However, he also realized that she was talking to a redhead who could only be Clara's manager. His heart sank a little. Of course. Of course, Clara would be here. How could he have assumed anything else?

“Oh, look who made it here at last,” Missy remarked when she saw him approaching the two of them.

He grimaced in their direction while Amy granted him a smile and the Doctor figured that Clara hadn't told her friend about anything that had happened between the two of them. 

“Stop it,” his manager told him strictly.

“Stop what?”

“You look as if you're about to bolt and as your manager, I have to tell you that this party is good for your career, so stay here and talk to some important people.”

“I'm talking to you,” he replied. “Isn't that enough?”

“Clara is also here somewhere,” Amy mentioned. “I think she went to embarrass a few guys at the dart board.”

The Doctor couldn't help the smile that spread over his face at the thought of several guys trying to take on Clara Oswald at darts and he knew from experience that it would end in their utter humiliation. Then he quickly hid his smile again. Clara had treated him like a piece of shit and he would do well to remember that from now on. She didn't deserve his smile.

“Oh, there's Steven Morrissey over there!” Missy suddenly exclaimed. “I'm gonna go over and say hi.”

“I'll come with you,” Amy joined in. “I need to ask him who did the layout of his new album cover.”

“That looks amazing, doesn't it?”

 

The Doctor could do nothing but watch as the two women walked away, talking among themselves as if he wasn't even there at all and once again, he felt lost. He just really, really hated parties and he couldn't wait to leave.

Not knowing what else to do and fearing that his manager would get mad if he bolted already, the Doctor walked into the next room, praying to find at least one familiar face. And he promptly did, just not the one he had hoped for. There was a crowd of excited, laughing men in the centre of the room and the Doctor couldn't say what all the ruckus was about until someone from within the group threw a dart at the small board on the wall. The crowd cheered and as it parted, the Doctor spotted Clara Oswald right in the middle of it.

“ _Whohoooo!_ Beat that, guys!” she exclaimed happily, throwing her arms in the air after having hit close to the bull's eye from an insane distance.

Something about the sight made the Doctor angry. After everything she had done, Clara was there, the centre of attention, clearly enjoying all those looks the men threw her, enjoying their remarks and their flirting. Would they still do that if they knew what she was like? The Doctor scoffed when he realized that the answer was probably yes. But he wasn't that kind of man and he was most certainly not jealous that she was bathing in the men's attention.

He couldn't quite explain why he did it, but when the Doctor spotted the stray dart in front of his feet, he bent down to pick it up. The anger was still brewing inside him when he realized that he had a clear shot at the board on the other side of the room, so instead of shouting at Clara, the Doctor decided to take his frustration out on the board. He threw the dart with as much force as he could muster.

The room suddenly went quiet except for the low murmurs and expressions of awe as every face in the entire room turned around to look at him. It took him a moment to realize what had happened, but then he spotted the dart, right at the centre of the bull's eye.

Clara gawked at him.

“Looks like you've got competition,” one of the guys joked, but she ignored him as she crossed the room and came straight towards him.

The Doctor's mouth suddenly felt a little dry and he had no idea what was going to happen next. Would she be angry? Would she make an attempt to be professional? The Doctor had no idea. All he knew was that she looked utterly gorgeous tonight and it was drowning out every other thought in his head.

“Did you practice?” she wanted to know, the tone of her voice unreadable to him. Yet there was a hint of a smile on Clara's face.

“Stroke of luck,” the Doctor replied with a shrug. He didn't know what else to say. He had been so mad at Clara for almost two weeks and yes, he had been jealous. Of the altar boy, of the men in this room. Now that she was looking at him, the Doctor could feel his anger fade just a little and he knew that he shouldn't let that happen. Just because she gave him that look with her big, puppy dog eyes didn't mean that everything she had done would be forgotten.

“Sorry I didn't reply to your message about getting together to work on the songs,” she said. “I've been busy. And also slightly mad.”

“Yeah, well, I've also been busy and mad,” he spat.

Clara chuckled in response. “Now that we're finished being mad, we could meet tomorrow? At my place?”

It was a stupid idea, thoroughly and utterly stupid. Right now, the Doctor wanted nothing more than to be alone with her, to take her clothes off and kiss every inch of her body and right now he didn't care that Clara was taken. He didn't even doubt that Clara would let him because she was still smiling at him. He shouldn't let it happen. It was impossible. _She_ was impossible. How could she mess with his head like that?

“Who says I'm finished being mad?”

“Oh, come on,” Clara said and gave him a soft nudge. “Stop being like this. We have to work on the album at some point.”

Work on the album was the last thing they would do if he went over to her place tomorrow and they both knew it. The Doctor really should resist because this game Clara was playing could never in a million years end well.

“Look at the bright side,” she threw in and by now her voice had taken on an angry tone. “The sooner we get this album done, the sooner you'll be rid of me. And I'll be rid of you.”

“I'm busy tomorrow,” the Doctor growled and then spun around on his heels to walk away. He couldn't play her game. He _shouldn't_.

“Doing what?!” Clara called after him.

“Busy being mad at you!”


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *sneaks in extra chapter* Thank you guys so much for the lovely comments :)

Clara plopped down in the seat next to Amy and took a large sip of her drink. She didn't even know why she was trying to be nice to the Doctor when he was clearly a total knobhead. Yes, maybe she should have mentioned Danny and yes, she shouldn't have made him lie for her, but after two weeks, Clara had expected him to finally let it go. He was rude and extremely unprofessional. And that show at the dart board had been completely unnecessary.

“Arsehole,” Clara muttered under her breath and continued to sip her cocktail, but her thoughts kept circling around the Doctor regardless of the distraction.

“Who? Me?” Amy asked and Clara realized that she had probably said it a little more loudly than intended.

She looked up at Amy. “No, not you obviously,” she replied. “The Doctor.”

“What is that between you two? You squabbled like two school children who are secretly in love when we went to the studio.”

Clara scoffed. “Oh, trust me. We are most definitely not in love,” she said, almost laughing at the ridiculousness of Amy's statement. She could never fall in love with a man like him. At this point, Clara doubted she could fall in love at all. “I hate him.”

“Why?” her friend wanted to know.

Why? That was a very good question. Clara couldn't even name a specific reason, but everything between them had gone wrong from the very first meeting and even the sex hadn't changed it, which was probably what she hated most about him. Despite his rudeness and the way he just managed to push her buttons, the Doctor was the best shag she had ever had and even now, a part of her just wanted to drag him into an empty room and take off his really quite magnificent three-piece suit. It really wasn't fair at all.

Clara would have loved to tell Amy about everything, but she knew that she couldn't. Her friend wouldn't understand and, above all, she would tell her how horrible it was of her to cheat on Danny. That was something Clara had already figured out on her own and she didn't actually need Amy to confirm that.

“I don't know,” Clara admitted eventually, followed by a heavy sigh. “We just don't get along.”

At least not outside of the bedroom or the studio. How were they ever going to finish this album?

“Well, you'll have to,” Amy reasoned. “At least for as long as you're working together.”

“I know that,” Clara groaned.

“Do you want to hear my advice?”

Clara raised her eyebrows at her friend and waited, hoping it would be a good one.

“Go and talk to him. Tell him you're both adults and if you can't get along, Missy and I are gonna come over and scold you for squabbling like the children you are,” Amy said. “You've seen Missy and how scary she can be.”

“I tried that,” she argued.

“Try again. Now,” her manager said sternly. “Preferably before he leaves.”

“Alright,” Clara growled and frowned at her friend. She was right, of course. And maybe the additional threat of their managers would make him see reason, so Clara finished her drink and rose from her seat, determined to go looking for the Doctor before he left the party.

 

It took her a while, but Clara eventually managed to spot him among the crowd and to her dismay, she realized that he was already wearing his coat and heading towards the front door.

“Doctor!”

He turned his head, but as soon as he realized who had called him, quickly resumed his stride, obviously more eager to get away than before. Clara sped up her pace and followed him. He wasn't going to get away so easily.

“Doctor, stop right there! Do not leave this house or I swear I will make a scene in front of everyone else!”

Finally, he came to a halt, but when he turned back to look at her, the expression on his face was an angry stare.

“What do you want?!” he spat.

“I talked to Amy and she's right,” Clara told him. “We're behaving like children and this stops now!”

The Doctor scoffed and Clara knew that he was about to throw something back at her, but she didn't even give him a chance. Instead, she grabbed him by the arm and pulled him back inside through the crowd of chatting people.

“Hey! Let go!”

“Not a chance!” she said and dragged him towards the nearest door. Behind it, Clara discovered a bathroom and once she had determined that it was perfect, she pushed him inside and locked the door behind them. “We're going to settle this and we're gonna settle it now!”

“How on earth are you gonna settle being a nasty bitch?!”

“Well, same way you're gonna settle being a complete arsehole!” Clara shouted at him. “Has it ever occurred to you that I'm being a bitch because you keep being such an arse?!”

“Or maybe it's the other way around, have you considered that?!”

“Don't blame that on me!”

“You started it,” the Doctor said and pointed straight at her. “You had a go at me for stepping on your foot.”

“Well, I had a bad day. There was no reason for you to be an arse the second time we met!”

“You weren't exactly a saint either and that thing with the altar boy-”

A knock interrupted him mid-sentence and Clara spun around in an instant and shouted at whoever was on the other side of the door.

“We're busy! Try the upstairs bathroom!” Then she turned back around and looked him straight in the eye. “I hate you, you know that?”

“I hate you more, trust me.”

 

It was ridiculous. They were both ridiculous and Clara was fully aware of it, but neither of them wanted to admit it in front of the other and neither of them wanted to take the first step because it would mean losing their fight. So Clara did the only thing she could think of, the only thing she knew would shut him up and end their fight. She stepped forward, reached for the lapels of his coat and used the moment of surprise to pull him down until their lips met.

It was rough, almost violent as they crashed their mouths together, teeth clattering at the impact, but in a matter of seconds, the Doctor wrapped his arms around her and pulled her against his body as if he had only waited for her to make this exact move. It was amazing and it was terrible because Clara knew how it would end and despite Danny, she wanted it that way.

Then the Doctor pushed her away, glowering at her. “No,” he growled and instantly distanced himself from her. “This. . . this isn't gonna happen.”

“It already happened. Keep up.”

“That was before I knew about the altar boy, before I knew that you were using me!”

“Oh, come on,” Clara yelled at him, rolling her eyes. “Don't pretend that you weren't using me in the exact same way! Don't pretend you don't want this as much as I do!”

The Doctor stopped and looked at her for a long moment and that was when Clara knew that she finally had him. They were the same, only trying to pretend they were better than the other. At last, they had found a common ground.

“I still hate you,” the Doctor mumbled.

“So do I,” Clara replied and granted him a mischievous smile. She waited for a moment, but the Doctor remained quiet. “So, uhm. . . I believe I still owe you one for that moment when we were so rudely interrupted.”

“By your boyfriend.”

“Shut up,” Clara giggled when she approached him and dropped her hands to his belt, tugging at it to pull him closer. “Danny isn't my boyfriend.”

The Doctor frowned at her in response, but it was obvious that he had already given in because he didn't even protest when Clara started undoing his belt. “You keep changing your mind about that,” he stammered. “That, uhm, that's a little confusing.”

Clara sank down on her knees in front of him, pulling his trousers and pants down in the process to reveal his member that was already twitching in excitement. When another knock on the bathroom door interrupted them, Clara didn't even turn around to respond. Instead, her eyes remained on him and she was smiling at the thought of taking him into her mouth.

“Busy!” she called out and then dropped her voice to address the Doctor. “I'm enjoying these little encounters with you too much to stop. What about you?”

“Well, uhm,” he spluttered when Clara reached out and wrapped her hand around his cock. She hadn't even started and he was already melting at her touch. It was almost adorable and it was certainly a lot of fun. “It's not entirely disgusting.”

Clara smiled to herself before she leaned forward and wrapped her lips around his tip and slowly started to suck him into her mouth. She would get him to admit that he was enjoying it one way or another.

The Doctor uttered a low, almost inaudible sound when she took him into her mouth and placed her hands on his hips to keep him steady. In return, his hands wandered to her head and for a brief moment, Clara worried about what it would do to her hair before she decided that it didn't matter at all. He was beginning to harden inside her mouth.

“Why am I letting you do this?” he muttered more to himself than to her and then sucked his breath in between his teeth when she tightened her lips around him.

Clara ignored him and instead focused on the task at hand and it didn't take long before his protests ceased completely and he was rocking into her mouth at an increasing speed. When she swirled her tongue around his tip, Clara could already taste him.

The Doctor moaned softly and in the back of her head, Clara was aware of the knocking on the bathroom door, but she didn't care about it in the least while the Doctor was beginning to fall apart under her touch. Just for a moment, there was no squabbling, no fighting, not even a silly, little album mattered anymore. All that was important was what was happening between them right now.

“Clara,” his hissed between his teeth as his hands cradled her head, his fingers buried deep in her hair and she could tell by his heavy breathing that he was close. He was rock solid and leaking into her mouth as he continued to thrust into her, obviously trying his best to hold back.

In response, Clara hummed softly in an attempt to show him that it was okay, that she was loving it, that she herself was so turned on it was becoming increasingly hard not to reach down between her own legs to tend to that itch that had been bugging her for a few minutes now.

Suddenly, his movements came to a halt and the Doctor gasped as he spilt himself over her tongue and Clara swallowed around him before she let him glide out of her mouth.

“I really shouldn't let you do this,” he remarked, sounding a little out of breath while Clara pulled his trousers back up and granted him a smile.

“I'm counting on you to repay me later,” she said mischievously and finally, he smiled back at her.

“Tomorrow,” he said breathlessly. “Tomorrow evening. Your place.”

“You better bring that guitar of yours,” Clara told him. “We've got songs to write.”

 

Before the Doctor had a chance to say anything else, Clara turned around and unlocked the bathroom door. She had to leave before either of them said something stupid again that would tear down the bridge they had managed to build. So what if they hated each other. At last, they had found a way to communicate.

“What happened to your knees?” Amy wanted to know when Clara sat back down next to her friend.

She reached for the cocktail she had left on the table and took a sip. “Nothing,” she replied matter-of-factly.

“Did you manage to talk some sense into the Doctor?”

Clara couldn't help but grin at her friend's question. He had seen sense, yes, but there hadn't been a lot of talking involved in that. “Yeah, I did,” she only half lied. As long as she didn't think about Danny while she was with him, everything was going to be fine. “He's gonna behave, I think.”

“Good,” her friend concluded and Clara watched from afar as the Doctor made his way through the crowd and towards the front door.

There was no going back for either of them now. Clara had him wrapped around her little finger and the Doctor knew that as well as she did. Somehow, she had the feeling that she was going to enjoy their collaboration more than she had initially thought.


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys so, so, so much for your lovely comments!

“ _First you love me, then you say it's wrong_ ,” the Doctor sang, his voice low and still a little husky from sleep while his hands strummed a few chords on the guitar he had propped up on his lap.

Clara laughed next to him, a real, heartfelt laugh. They were both still in bed after he had spent another night at her flat and even though he still wouldn't go as far as to say that he liked her, the Doctor couldn't deny that he was beginning to enjoy her company just a little, especially when she laughed like this. She had her bathrobe wrapped loosely around her naked body and once again, the Doctor felt a little tempted to take it back off because he liked her most when was her true self: tousled hair, no makeup, laughing. That was the Clara Oswald he got along with, the Clara Oswald he could almost grow fond of. But only almost.

“I never said it was wrong,” she argued, still chuckling. “That was _you_.”

He grinned at her in reply. “For the sake of the song, you did,” he said. “ _You know you only want me when I get over you._ ”

“Stop it,” Clara told him, that laugh still on her lips when she leaned forward and took the guitar away from him before she discarded it on the bedroom floor. “The croissants are getting cold.”

“Let them,” he replied and used the moment during which Clara was distracted. The Doctor reached for her arm and pulled her back against his bare chest before he bent down to kiss her.

He really shouldn't have let her seduce him in the first place because by now, the Doctor was thoroughly addicted to her kisses, to her touch. Even though in the back of his head, he knew that it was wrong, a part of him simply couldn't care less. At least he could find a way to justify what they were doing. Clara inspired him and he seemed to inspire her in return because by now they had written no less than three songs together. As far as the album was concerned, things were going well.

Clara was smiling against his lips before she pulled away. “I'm hungry,” she complained playfully. “And I didn't make these croissants just for the fun of it.”

The Doctor scoffed. “Excuse me, I think you mean you took them out of the freezer and warmed them up in the oven for 10 minutes.”

“That is more than you did, lazy bastard!”

When Clara leaned forward again, it wasn't to kiss him but to jab his chest with her index finger. The Doctor growled playfully and glowered at her for a short moment before he realized that he, too, was hungry, so he reached for one of the croissants and took a large bite.

“Did you make any coffee?” he asked while he was still chewing.

Clara also took a bite of her croissant, but she swallowed before she gave him an answer. “It's on the bedside table next to you, already cold.”

When he turned around, the Doctor spotted the large mug just where Clara had said it would be and he picked it up and took a big sip. His face distorted in a grimace. It was strong and yes, it was also cold, a disgusting combination, especially early in the morning. However, when he set the mug back down, he noticed Clara checking her watch out of the corner of his eye.

“Is there somewhere that you need to be?” he asked even though he knew that it was nothing of his concern. It was an unspoken rule, but one he rarely dared to break. Clara's private life was and would always be off limits to him and most of the time, the Doctor liked it that way because he wasn't keen on Clara getting involved in his. But today was no such day. Today he felt curious even though the chances of getting an answer were small.

“No,” Clara replied to his surprise. “But it's almost lunch break and Danny might call.”

Now it was the Doctor's turn to glance at the alarm clock on the bedside table and sure enough, Clara was right. It was almost noon and he hadn't even noticed how the time had passed since they had woken up.

Clara rarely mentioned Danny. That was another one of their unspoken rules and the Doctor didn't really care about it. But today, he was curious or he just wanted to annoy her. It was one or the other.

“What does the altar boy do again?” he asked and sipped his coffee regardless of the temperature.

Clara blew the air out between her teeth and any moment now, she would tell him that her boyfriend wasn't an altar boy and then he could tease her about it. A part of him was already looking forward to it. “He's a teacher,” she said eventually. “Maths.”

The Doctor snorted in reply. “Maths?!” The disbelief must have been audible in his voice because her head instantly shot up and Clara started to glare at him.

“He's actually quite smart,” she argued defensively.

“Well, he can't be that smart or he would realize that you're playing him for a fool,” he scoffed.

Clara didn't answer, but her gaze grew darker by the second.

“When are you gonna tell the altar boy that you don't love him?” the Doctor wanted to know and this time, it was a serious question. There was no way Clara had true feelings for the lad.

“What makes you think I don't love him?” Clara asked in return and by now, the amusement had returned to her voice. “You don't know a goddamn thing about me or my relationship.”

“Well, I know that you spent the night with me and not him. I know you're currently in bed next to me, not the altar boy.”

“For starters, Danny can't write songs,” she argued.

Again, the Doctor scoffed. “Apparently, that's not the only thing he can't do,” he remarked. The Doctor just couldn't imagine how a Maths teacher like the altar boy would be able to please Clara, otherwise, she would have never made a pass at him. No, something was missing from their relationship and Clara obviously felt the urge to seek it elsewhere. “Your sex life is pretty dull, huh?”

Before the Doctor knew what was happening, Clara had taken the breakfast plate away from him and cast it aside. When lifted his head in confusion to see what was wrong, she was glaring at him.

“You've overstayed your welcome,” she told him sternly. “You should leave now.”

“Gladly,” the Doctor growled in reply and jumped up from the bed.

“And don't forget these again!” Clara called after him and when he turned around, he saw that she was holding up his underpants. “If it was your intention to get me to wash them again just because I hate to leave a dirty pair of pants lying around, you're out of luck today.”

The Doctor outstretched his hand to grab them, but before he had a chance to reach them, Clara quickly drew them back.

“Why question marks though?”

“I like them,” he replied and yanked the pair of pants out of Clara's grip.

To his surprise, she started to laugh. “You know how silly that is, right?”

“Why?” the Doctor asked and grinned at her. “You were quite eager to take them off me last night. As far as I'm concerned, the goal was achieved.”

She chuckled and threw the plaid trousers in his direction as well. “Get out.”

“Until the next time,” he said before he bent down and left a brief kiss on Clara's lips.

“Yeah,” she breathed happily. “Until the next time.”


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for the sweet comments :) I know you're all impatient for Clara to dump Danny, but bear with her here. . .

“Have you seen my bra?” Clara called into the bedroom, but for some reason, she received no answer. She rolled her eyes. Had the Doctor really fallen asleep again? Ah well, if that was the case, she would wake him in the most brutal manner known to humankind.

As she made her way back into the bedroom, Clara started yelling again. “Doctor, you better not be asleep because-”

Clara broke off as soon as she stepped into the room because when she spotted the Doctor, she saw that he was on the phone and silencing her by placing his index finger over his lips.

“Yes, Missy, that works,” he said to his manager on the other end of the line. “It's one of your less shabby ideas, yes. I'll see you tomorrow.”

When the Doctor hung up, Clara took her first real breath ever since she had entered the room and she was praying that his manager hadn't heard her voice through the phone.

“She didn't hear me, did she?”

The Doctor shook his head. “Nah, Missy was too busy patting herself on the back to notice anything,” he explained. “She had a little surprise for us both.”

“Us both?” Clara raised her eyebrows at him. That couldn't be good.

“Don't worry, it's not that bad,” he reassured her immediately as he rose from his seat and slid the phone back into his pocket. “Missy managed to get us both a radio interview in two weeks.”

“A radio interview? Isn't it a bit early for that? We haven't even recorded anything.”

Clara watched as he blew out the air between his teeth and shrugged and she knew that he was probably just as surprised as she was, but she was also beginning to see the plan behind the publicity stunt.

“I mean, we've written quite a few songs by now. Two, maybe three more and we can start recording. I told Missy about the progress and. . . I don't know.”

“She thinks it's good publicity, get them excited early,” Clara reasoned. “It's okay. We can do it. I suspect Amy is gonna call me in a bit to give me the good news.”

“Better act surprised then,” he replied, chuckling as a grin spread across his face. The Doctor looked so silly whenever he did that and Clara hated to admit that even his stupid quirks were beginning to appeal to her just a little. On some days, Clara wondered if he felt the same, but then they would always start arguing again. He didn't like her. She didn't like him. Music and sex, that was all that connected them. Besides, she had Danny. He cared about her in ways the Doctor never could.

“I'll do my best,” she said eventually. “Now, back to the subject of my bra. Have you seen it?”

The grin didn't fade from his face. Instead, it started to look a little more mischievous than it had before. “I may have.”

Clara laughed at the expression on his face. “Tell me where,” she told him, chuckling.

“Well, what do I get in exchange?”

Clara stepped forward, went up on tiptoes and pressed a long, soft kiss on his lips. “How about this?”

In response, the Doctor closed his arm around her waist and pulled her in his direction until she collided with his chest. “How about a little more?”

“Doctor,” she said with a sigh, “I have a breakfast date with Danny. I can't cancel on him again.”

“Forget about Danny,” he growled softly as he lowered his lips to her neck and Clara sucked her breath in when he started to nibble at her skin right below her ear. It was her weak spot and the Doctor had found instantly.

While she was trying very hard not to let the Doctor distract her, Clara attempted to gather her courage to push him away. It wasn't right, but Clara allowed it as long as it didn't interfere with her relationship with Danny.

“I can't,” she half whispered, half moaned when his teeth scraped across her skin. Why did he have to be so good at this? It was as if one kiss was enough to make her knees weak. When she spoke again, her voice was barely audible. “Danny is good for me. Danny is normal.”

“Boring more like it,” he replied and in a swift movement, the Doctor swept her up and they both fell back onto her bed.

Clara wanted to fight it, she really did, but when their lips locked in a kiss, she suddenly felt as if all her determination and good intentions were drained from her. She couldn't resist the Doctor, not when he kissed her like this. Over the years, Clara had had her share of lovers and boyfriends, but none of them had been like the Doctor. She wasn't sure if it was his experience with women or the sweet, exciting taste of doing something forbidden, but the moments she shared with him were the only time she really forgot the world around her. When the Doctor undid her bathrobe, Clara forgot the fame and the price that came with it. When he kissed her again, she forgot about Danny. Once their clothes were all discarded on the floor, there was nothing in this entire world except the Doctor and Clara.

“I hate you,” she muttered breathlessly, followed by a moan as he dived into her. Clara hooked her arms around his back, clinging to him as if her sanity depended on it. She really hated him right now, hated that he could lead her astray so easily, hated that he was so good at making her fall apart at his touch. But above all, Clara hated that she didn't actually hate him anymore.

In response, the Doctor brushed their lips together for a brief moment. “I hate you more,” he panted as he moved inside her, slowly picking up pace. They had done this for weeks and every time, Clara was surprised about just how good it felt, how she actually craved his touch. She hooked her leg around him, allowing him in deeper and gasped when he hit her sweet spot.

Once again, Clara pulled him down for a breathless kiss, but they broke apart too soon. It was maddening, the way he played with her head, the way she kept on wanting him despite knowing better. It was almost like an addiction. She was addicted to him just like he was addicted to her.

“Doctor,” Clara keened as she could feel her orgasm approaching. She clawed at his back, hooking her nails into his skin to let him know that she was close when all coherent thoughts were beginning to forsake her, but he just kept on going, thrusting into her until she cried out when the relief washed over her like a wave.

She gasped for air when the Doctor's movements stopped at last and she could feel it as he released himself inside of her.

 

A few seconds later, he collapsed next to her and right now, Clara felt too heavy to even move. But then it all came back to her, all those thoughts that had vanished with the Doctor's touch. They had their album to work on and after that was done, they would never see each other again. After that was done, she would go back to Danny.

_Danny._

Clara sat up with a start when she glanced at the alarm clock and realized that her boyfriend had probably arrived at the café already.

“You have to leave,” she told him strictly, but when Clara attempted to get out of bed, she felt the Doctor's hand on her arm.

“Forget about him,” he said to her and the seriousness in his voice surprised her a little. Yet right now, Clara didn't have time for his silly games and she certainly wouldn't allow him to seduce her again. “He's not the one for you.”

“You know nothing about him,” Clara spat. “Or about me.”

The Doctor's forehead wrinkled in a frown.

“Just stay out of it, okay?” she said and finally, the Doctor released her from his grip. With a sigh, Clara rose from her bed and made her way towards the pile of discarded clothes. She couldn't allow the Doctor to meddle with her love life. The affair they had started was bad enough, but if she allowed him into her head as well, she would lose Danny and, by extent, what was left of her sanity.


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *smiles broadly at all your comments* Thank you guys so much :D I promise, from here we will only go deeper into trouble!

“Can you tell us whose idea this album actually was? I mean, did one of you approach the other or-?” the radio presenter asked them, but he didn't even glance at the Doctor in the process.

Somehow, he felt like he had come here for nothing. All the questions the presenter had asked them had been directed mainly at Clara and the Doctor had hardly said anything more than hello and by now, he was beginning to feel just a little jealous. It was natural, of course, Clara was the famous rock star and he was just the weirdo they had dug up to work with her and the Doctor even doubted that half the listeners of this show had ever listened to his music, but what bugged him even more than being ignored was the way the presenter kept looking at Clara and laughing at her jokes that weren't even funny.

“It was our managers' idea,” the Doctor replied before Clara could just to shift the presenter's attention away from Clara. 

She turned around to look at him and there was a slightly puzzled expression on her face before eventually, she agreed. “Yeah, that's basically it. My manager rang me up and said: there's this guy who makes pretty cool music and I want you to work with him.”

“What makes the story even weirder is that our managers are related and they came up with the idea at a family gathering,” the Doctor elaborated, chuckling. “You can guess how much alcohol was involved in the decision making.”

Clara laughed with him, but when he heard the sound over the headphones, the Doctor could tell that it was forced and sounded just a little nervous. “Well, you know what they say about great ideas.”

“That this was definitely not one of them?”

To his surprise, Clara cleared her throat and threw him a stern look. For some reason, she didn't seem to appreciate his honesty.

“I think it's a wonderful idea,” Clara went on to explain. “And I think the album, once it's finished, is going to be amazing.”

“So you're working on it together?” the presenter asked and once again, the question seemed to be directed at her.

“Of course,” she confirmed. “The album is gonna be a mix of cover songs and new, original content that we're currently writing together.”

The presenter chuckled. “I have to admit, when I first read about it, I was a little confused and I think so are many of your fans. It seems to be an unlikely collaboration if you don't mind me saying. How would you describe your work process to our listeners? And what can we expect from it?”

Even though the Doctor tried to hold it back, the laughter just came over his lips as he tried to imagine how Clara would wriggle her way out of this one without admitting to what they were really doing. She turned her head and glowered at him, but that only made him laugh more.

“It's certainly a difficult process,” she went on to explain. “As people, as musicians, we're both quite different. We had never actually met before we started working together.”

“In the beginning, we really didn't get along at all,” the Doctor added, still chuckling. “But we managed to find something about the other that we really appreciate.”

“And what is it about Clara Oswald that you appreciate the most, Doctor?” the presenter wanted to know.

He laughed in response. “I appreciate it when she shuts up and admits that I'm right.”

Next to him, the Doctor could see that Clara closed her eyes and only just managed to refrain from groaning out loud. The presenter looked a little confused, but decided not to let that deter him from finishing his show.

“Well, I can tell you guys one thing for certain: once this album is out, I will run to the first shop and buy it because it sounds like a crazy project that has a lot of potential,” the presenter said and the Doctor could tell that it was a blatant lie. He wasn't curious about their album in the least. “Thank you both for coming here to answer all of our questions and be sure to come back with more stories once we have an actual song for our listeners to enjoy. For now, let's go back to Clara Oswald's most recent hit single and I hope you all agree with me when I say I'm praying for this to be one of the cover versions on the next album. We will back in the studio next Saturday with Amy Macdonald who is going to tell us what she has been up to since the release of her last album.”

 

“I know why your music isn't selling,” Clara barked at him once they were alone and slammed the door of the back room shut behind her. “You're a publicity disaster!”

The Doctor couldn't help but laugh in response. “Excuse me, I'm what now?”

“You're supposed to sell the album, to make them curious, to make it sound like it's the best thing you've ever created even if it isn't!” she shouted at him. “But no, not you. You publicly admitted that our managers were drunk when they came up with the idea, that we hate each other! At least I was beating around the bush, you insulted me on air and don't say you're sorry because I know you're not!”

“I was just being honest!” he said defensively. But that wasn't all, was it? The Doctor had been jealous. Not exactly of her success, but of the way the presenter had looked at her and maybe, his teasing had been an attempt to make her throw away the mask she had put on for the public and show her real self, the self the presenter had surely never seen and wouldn't like.

“Well, honesty isn't gonna make us money! Would it kill you to say a nice word about me?!”

The Doctor's face turned into a smirk. “I said we found something about the other that we appreciated.”

Clara stepped forward and jabbed his chest with her finger. “I'm not stupid. I know a naughty reference when I hear one.”

“Want another?” he teased.

She rolled her eyes in response, but the Doctor was no longer in the mood to argue with her. Instead, he closed his arms around her waist in an attempt to pull her a little closer. Yet Clara wouldn't budge.

“Have I ever told you how sexy you look when you're angry?”

When he bent down to kiss her, Clara turned her head away, but she didn't fight his embrace. “I'm not in the mood for flirting. You were an idiot.”

“I'm always an idiot,” he argued.

Reluctantly, Clara looked back at him and even though she tried to hide it, he could see the hint of amusement in her eyes. “I can't argue with that statement.”

“Come on,” he said with a smile and gave her a soft nudge, “let's go back to your place and enjoy the rest of the Saturday. In bed.”

Finally, Clara's face lit up a little, but she still refused to agree, so the Doctor bent down and kissed her on the lips. She tasted like coffee when she parted her lips for him and the Doctor felt his heart skip a little beat. Oh, what was she doing to his head?

Eventually, Clara pulled away from him. “I have to check my schedule. I think I had an appointment later.”

“Cancel it,” he prompted her and finally, she laughed at him even though she shook her head at the same time.

Clara reached out and grabbed him by the cords of his hoodie. “You're terrible, you know that?”

He grinned at her. “It's my best character trait,” he replied and allowed Clara to pull him down for another kiss.


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys for your sweet comments! Now, I give you trouble and emotional turmoil and if your alarm bells aren't ringing yet, well, they should ;)

In the back of her head, Clara knew just how wrong it was and the longer their kiss lasted, the more she forgot that they shouldn't keep doing this, especially not in public. It was one thing to cheat on Danny in private, but it was another to do it in the back room of the radio station where a journalist could burst in any moment and expose their secret. That thought was the one that finally made her pull away and Clara was gasping for breath when she did.

“Not in public,” she reminded him strictly and distanced herself from him. “I can't even imagine the newspaper article if they figured us out. _Clara Oswald is sleeping with the ageing rock star that she hates and is supposed to record an album with._ ”

“That's a stupid headline.”

“Exactly,” Clara argued. “So let's just keep that in the privacy of my apartment, okay?”

“Okay,” the Doctor agreed and then the smile returned to his lips. “So, shall we go to the privacy of your apartment?”

Clara smiled in return and then made her way towards her purse that she had discarded on one of the chairs when they had arrived at the radio station. “Let me just check that appointment,” she explained but she hadn't even reached her purse as the door opened and when she looked up, she all of a sudden remembered her appointment.

“Danny,” she blurted out in surprise. How could she have forgotten about that? Clara had told Danny about the radio interview and he had promised to pick her up afterwards. She truly was the worst girlfriend in the entire universe.

Danny had obviously picked up on her shock because a moment later, his forehead lined in a frown. “You forgot that I said I'd pick you up, didn't you?”

“No,” Clara argued instantly and then forced herself to laugh. Even in her own ears, it sounded utterly nervous. “How I could forget about you, Danny? Never.”

Instead of a frown, Clara now earned a raised eyebrow. She had forgotten about their dates on multiple occasions and Danny knew it as well as she did. She was going to have to make it up to him somehow.

“Ah, the altar boy was the appointment you couldn't remember,” the Doctor said and he wore a smug smile on his face as he appeared next to her. Clara turned her head and glowered at him, but she knew better than to expect any kind of support from the Doctor.

“Why do you keep calling me that? I am not an altar boy!” Danny replied angrily.

“Are you sure?” the Doctor wanted to know. “I mean, have you checked?”

“Stop it,” Clara demanded and gave him a look that was supposed to remind the Doctor of the last time he and Danny had crossed paths in her flat about two weeks ago. After that, she had threatened him with sex withdrawal if he didn't start being nicer to Danny. Only grudgingly, the Doctor had agreed.

Next to her, Danny sighed and when Clara looked at him, she was surprised to see a smile on his face. “I guess I shouldn't blame you,” he said softly. “You're over-worked and you're tired and I can only imagine how that guy is getting on your nerves. I shouldn't be mad at you for forgetting a silly date when you're so busy being amazing.”

Clara smiled at him in return and this time, it was almost honest. That was what she appreciated about Danny the most. He really, truly cared about her.

“Are you sure you can't get a few weeks off during the school break? We could go on holiday together and just relax for a while. It will do you good, I promise,” Danny said as he laid his arm around her waist and bent down to leave a kiss on her cheek.

“No, she can't,” the Doctor replied gruffly. “We have work to do.”

Clara cleared her throat. “Doctor,” she began sternly, “right now, you are my colleague, not my manager. It's not up to you to decide when I can get a week off and when I can't.”

Finally, he shut up and when Clara looked at him, she thought that for a brief moment, she saw a flash of anger in his eyes. Or was it insecurity? _Jealousy?_ Was the Doctor jealous of Danny despite claiming otherwise? He had asked her to leave Danny on multiple occasions, saying that she didn't love him, saying that he wasn't the one for her. How could he be jealous when he didn't even like her?

“Come on,” Danny eventually tore her out of her thoughts. “Let's go. I promised I'd cook you lunch. How does that sound?”

“Uhm, great. That sounds great,” she spluttered, but still Clara glanced back at the Doctor even while Danny was beginning to pull her away. Was he jealous? Did he like her after all, even just a little?

 

When they left the radio station, Clara decided to push the thoughts about the Doctor aside at least for the time being and instead focus on her loving boyfriend who tolerated all of her quirks and moods and the fact that they could probably never have a normal relationship. Clara knew that she wasn't being fair towards him and she had considered stopping, but she wasn't quite sure just what she wanted to stop.

“I don't like him,” Danny said when they had been walking through the street for a while.

“Who?”

“The Doctor, of course,” he replied. “He's. . . I don't know. There's something about him that bugs me.”

Clara laughed. “Everything about him bugs me,” she joked. “But he's a great musician. Danny, you should hear the songs we've written together. They're amazing! The album is gonna be amazing!”

To her surprise, Danny stopped dead in his tracks, forcing Clara to come to a halt as well. For a moment, he only looked at her.

“I think he's into you,” he said after a while.

Again, Clara laughed. “Don't be silly,” she told him. “We don't even like each other.”

“That doesn't mean he can't have feelings for you,” Danny argued. “I think he's jealous and that's why he's being especially rude around me.”

“He doesn't have feelings for me,” Clara told him, but she couldn't bring herself to lie about the rest. If Danny had picked up on it, maybe the Doctor really was jealous, but what did that mean for them, for her? And if Danny had picked up on it, what should she do about it?

“Clara-”

“I'm serious, Danny, he's rude all the time. Have you listened to the radio interview?”

“I have, but-”

“Then you know I'm right,” Clara said exasperatedly. “The Doctor is a jerk and he's winding you up on purpose. He's winding _me_ up on purpose. The difference is that I refuse to play along. Just let it go, Danny.”

“I can't,” he replied angrily. “Not while I'm thinking that he's after you. I just don't trust him.”

“Do you trust me?” Clara wanted to know.

Danny hesitated for a moment but eventually, a smile spread across his face. “Yes,” he said in a soft voice. “I always trust you.”

Somehow, the way he said it stung like a dagger driven right through the pit of her stomach. Danny loved and trusted her and she had been cheating on him for weeks, months even. And for what? A man who couldn't even stand her. The Doctor wasn't worth it, but how on earth was she supposed to stop? How was she supposed to end their affair when he could make her feel things she had never felt before in her entire life? Was that really more important than the love and trust and stability Danny had to offer? Clara couldn't say. She just didn't know.

“Shall we go home?” Clara asked and she was surprised when her voice sounded a little broken. Quickly, she cleared her throat and put on a smile. “I remember you mentioning food.”

“Yes,” Danny agreed and finally cracked a smile as well before he placed his arm back around her waist. “Let's go home. But promise me to think about the holiday. Two or three weeks, just you and me on a Caribbean Island, doing nothing at all.”

“I promise,” she said weakly and let Danny lead her away. Something had to change, Clara knew it. She just didn't know what.


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so, so, so much for the comments!!! I know most of you have been waiting for Clara to dump Danny, but maybe fate has other ideas?

Clara was pacing her living room while the endless beeping sound on the phone seemed to resound in her head over and over and over again and the longer it lasted, the more her heartbeat seemed to accelerate. Nervously, she glanced at the collection of post-it notes on her shelf, trying to find a good way to start this conversation. But there wasn't a good way, was there?

_Just say it_

She reached out and took the note off the shelf, inhaling deeply as she did. Something had to change and because Clara couldn't make up her mind, she would let Danny decide. She had messed up, properly messed up. She had cheated on the only man who truly loved her, she had treated him in the most terrible way and if he forgave her for everything she had done, Clara would do everything in her power to honour the second chance. Oh God, he wasn't going to give her a second chance, was he?

“Clara!”

“Shut up!” she blurted out as if by instinct before she could stop herself. Her heartbeat was out of control by now.

To her surprise, Danny chuckled on the other end of the line, but it didn't make her feel any less nervous about what was going to happen. “Is that how we communicate now?”

“Shut up! Shut up!” she repeated exasperatedly, followed by a deep breath. She had to do it and she had to do it now. Somehow, Clara had to find a way to calm down. Her relationship, the only proper relationship she had ever had was about to come to an end. She could feel it. “I need to talk to you.”

“Well, I'm on my way to you right now. Breakfast date before school, remember? Give me a couple of minutes-”

“No! Not with you in the room!” she argued immediately. Clara couldn't do it like that. For the past few days, she had considered every possibility, went through every scenario and she had determined that if she looked Danny in the eye while she confessed her transgressions, she would never be able to tell him the truth. Just thinking about the pain and disappointment on his face made her want to blow off this entire idea.

“Oh, how silly of me,” Danny said and he kept on chuckling as if it was all a laughing matter. Of course, he didn't know that their relationship was on the line.

“Things to say,” Clara uttered eventually. “Not all of them good.”

“Okay,” he replied, a questioning undertone in his voice. “Wouldn't it be better if I was actually there?”

With a heavy sigh, Clara turned around to look at her shelf and she spotted post-it note after post-it note. _Lying. The Doctor. I'm sorry._ Then her eyes fell on the small note in her hand again. _Just say it_.

“Danny, everything is better when you're here,” she replied, “but maybe not this.”

_Just say it_

“I love you,” she blurted out and all of a sudden, it felt as if a weight had dropped off her shoulders. Clara had never said it before, not to Danny, not to anyone she had dated. She had found excuses, she had found other phrases, other ways to express how she felt, but she had never once said these words out loud. Somehow, the knowledge that she could say them felt like a relief.

“I love you, too,” Danny replied and there was a hint of amusement in his voice that angered her a little. She had been nervous, she had prepared for this.

“No, not like this, not like it's automatic,” Clara told him. She had prepared for this for days. “I've never said those words before, Danny, and I'll never say them again. Not to anybody else, ever. Those words from me are yours now.”

When she was finished, Clara took a long, deep breath. She had done it. She had actually done it. She had said the words and she might undo all of that with the confession that was to follow, but for a brief moment, Clara simply felt free.

Then she noticed that Danny had gone awfully quiet on the other end of the line.

“So, uhm, that's a thing,” she said hesitantly and waited for Danny to reply, but to her horror, he never said a word. Clara had no idea what was happening or why he wouldn't say anything. Had it been too much? Had he started to suspect something? Did he know what was coming?

“Okay, Danny,” she breathed nervously and waited for him to answer. Nothing. Not even a breath on the other end of the line. Her heart was pounding in her chest when she considered the possibility that she had done something terribly wrong. “Please speak to me. This is killing me.”

Clara waited, but the silence on the phone was deafening.

“Danny, I love you,” she confessed in a desperate attempt to get him to answer. He had to answer her now. “And you're the last person who's ever gonna hear me say that.”

Yet the phone stayed silent and at last, Clara recognized that feeling inside her chest for what it was. It was the feeling of her heart breaking.

* * *

There was a sound tearing him from his dream. A terrible, deafening sound making its way into the depths of his mind and rousing him from his sleep and the Doctor uttered a long, frustrated groan as he reached for his phone on the bedside table.

“What is it?!” he half shouted, half mumbled in his sleepy state.

“Wake up, Doctor,” his manager told him in a gruff voice. “I've got news for you.”

He growled once again and slowly turned around on his back. It was only 8 am in the morning and he wasn't in the state to receive news of any kind, not when he was still half asleep.

“Can't it wait?” he asked, the annoyance and exhaustion showing in his voice. “You know I'm not exactly a morning person.”

“Doesn't matter. It's important,” Missy said and knowing her, she would stop beating around the bush any moment now. “Amy just called. Clara Oswald put the project on hold. _Indefinitely._ ”

“ _What?!_ ” the Doctor blurted out and sat up in an instant. His head was spinning because of the sudden rush of blood and the news Missy had delivered. He didn't understand it and his tired brain was still wondering if he might have misheard her.

“Clara Oswald put the album on hold due to personal reasons,” Missy repeated, more loudly and clearly this time.

“I heard you,” he replied. The Doctor tried to wrap his head around the fact, but he couldn't quite grasp it. “Why would she do that?”

“I actually called to ask you the exact same thing,” his manager explained angrily. “Doctor, what did you do?”

“ _Me?_ ” he gasped. “I didn't do anything!”

“Really? Are you sure?” she wanted to know. “You didn't say anything mean? You didn't get into a fight?”

Finally, the Doctor rose from his bed and walked across the room. He couldn't sit still for another moment. Something was wrong, something had happened. But what? Their album had been going so well and right now, the Doctor couldn't come up with a single reason why Clara wanted to stop.

“Missy, I didn't say anything mean and we didn't get into a fight,” he promised. “Why would she cancel the album? I don't understand it.”

“Well, first of all, she didn't cancel. You both signed the contract, so it would be a legal hassle to get out of that. As far as I understood, she asked to put the project on hold for an unspecified period of time. Could be weeks, months, a year, I don't have a clue,” Missy went on. “I'm asking you if you know anything. Did she say something? Did you get into a fight and she needed a break?”

“I, uhm, no,” the Doctor replied. “No fight.”

However, he now remembered their last conversation and the Doctor started to get an inkling.

“Well, I supposed you can enjoy your holiday now,” Missy reasoned nonchalantly. “Go back to sleep.”

And just like that, the line went dead.

The Doctor stared at the phone in his hand for a long moment while Missy's words were beginning to sink in. Clara had put the album on hold after their last encounter and the Doctor knew that it could only mean one thing. She had taken Danny's advice and gone on a holiday with him, a sweet, nauseatingly romantic holiday with the altar boy. Clara had chosen Danny over the Doctor and she didn't even have the guts to tell him.

Angrily, the Doctor opened his list of contacts and called Clara, determined to make her admit it. If she wanted to end their affair, she would have to do it properly. She would have to face him and tell him that she didn't want to see him again. Yet the Doctor didn't even get as far as the annoying beeping sound because her mailbox answered straight away. Clara had switched off her phone.

The Doctor huffed and threw the useless device on his bed. Clara Oswald had left him in the most cowardly way possible and once the reality of it had sunk in, the Doctor felt angry, but he also felt something he hadn't actually expected to feel. He wasn't just angry. A part of him was sad. The Doctor would never be with Clara again and the realisation of that broke his heart in the most unexpected way.


	27. Chapter 27

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys so, so, so, sooooo much for your amazing comments!!! Glad I should shock at least some of you with that twist XD

**Several Months Later**

After the Doctor had pocketed his wallet, he stepped out of the bank and back into the cold December air. Instinctively, he tightened his coat around his body and sighed, his breath coming out of his mouth like a white, misty cloud. Despite the temperatures, it was still too warm for a proper amount of snow and the Doctor felt the sudden urge to ring up Donna and ask what the Scottish weather was like. Maybe, she would let him visit for Christmas. He would like that.

The last few months had been busy, but his bank account had certainly profited from the number of gigs he had played recently. Missy had hooked him up with a new duo and Psi and Saibra were the best band members the Doctor could have asked for. Together they had hit club after club, even travelling outside of London for smaller concerts and the Doctor couldn't actually remember the last time the audience had cheered as much as they had in Blackpool last week. 

However, his trip to Blackpool had also brought back a couple of memories that up until then, the Doctor had successfully managed to suppress. It had been months and he still hadn't heard a single word from Clara Oswald. At first, he had tried calling her, but to no avail. When after two weeks, she still hadn't answered any of his calls, the Doctor had gone to her penthouse, only to find that she had moved. Even now, he scoffed at the thought of Clara and Danny living together. She had chosen the altar boy and they were having their happily ever after somewhere in a cosy, little house. Somehow, the Doctor would find a way to live with that because it wasn't as if they had been in love with each other, but the way she had ended their affair still stung even after a few months. Clara should have had the guts to tell him face to face or at least on the phone, but no, she had broken off all contact from one moment to the next. It had been months and she still hadn't made a move to resume their work on the album.

Clara Oswald. Why was it that she could still haunt his thoughts even months later? Why was it that he still dreamed about her? Why was he still hoping for her to call when he knew it wasn't going to happen? The sad truth was that he had started to have feelings for her, at least feelings of some kind, and she had hurt him. Choosing the altar boy over him and the way she had done it had hurt the Doctor deeply. When he had lost River, he had had enough time to say goodbye, to get used to the idea even though it hadn't exactly made it easy, but Clara had just vanished from his life from one moment to the next.

When the Doctor felt his phone vibrate in his pocket, he pulled it out and a frown appeared on his face when he saw that Missy was calling him. He got a strange feeling all of a sudden and when he pressed the green button, he wasn't entirely sure whether he wanted to be right or wrong.

* * *

“I need to get out of the house!” Clara complained as she plopped down on the sofa next to her friend and handed over the bottle of wine for Amy to open. “I can't keep sitting here, doing nothing. It's driving me nuts!”

Yet her friend only eyed her cautiously. “Are you sure it's not too early? I mean, just two weeks ago you-”

“That was two weeks ago,” Clara argued. “I'm better now. I promise! Please, just let me work before I lose my mind!”

“You started crying at the club,” Amy said quietly and started to unscrew the cap of the bottle. She poured them both a glass of wine before she handed one to Clara. “You can't blame me for being a little concerned.”

Clara uttered a sigh. “I know, but I need to come back at some point. It's been months since-” she broke off. Even after several months, it was hard to say it out loud.

“Since Danny died,” her manager finished her sentence. “Say it.”

“Okay, yes, it's been months since Danny died,” she forced herself to say. God, it still stung like hell. Clara raised her glass and took a careful sip.

“Are you absolutely sure you want to go ahead with the album?” Amy wanted to know one more time. “I know you found it difficult to work with the Doctor and I'm worried that it might be too much at once. There is no rush, Clara. You can take all the time you need.”

“I wanna do it,” she confirmed quietly even though she had no idea how she was going to work with the Doctor from now on. She knew it was silly, but a part of her still felt as if their affair had caused Danny's death. If it hadn't been for the Doctor, she wouldn't have made that phone call and Danny wouldn't have walked in front of that car. She had no idea what was going to happen when she saw him again, but a part of her, however small, wanted to see him again.

Clara hadn't failed to notice his phone calls and her former landlord had mentioned that a man with an unruly mass of silver curls and a pair of silly plaid trousers had stopped by her old flat, but even in her darkest moments, Clara had resisted the urge to call him back. She just didn't know what to say to him. They didn't have the kind of relationship in which she could just confess that her boyfriend had died.

“You still feel guilty,” Amy noted after a while.

Clara swallowed and nodded.

“Well, stop it. It's not your fault.”

“Yes, it is my fault!” Clara barked at her friend. “Danny loved me. Danny was the only good thing in my life and I treated him like crap. I kept forgetting our dates, I refused to go public, I-”

She couldn't say it. Even after months, Clara couldn't admit that she had cheated.

“I was a horrible girlfriend,” she confessed. “Danny deserved so much better than me and it's my fault that he's dead. If we hadn't met, he would still be alive.”

Suddenly, Clara felt a hand on her shoulder and when she looked up, Amy granted her a soft smile. “You can't think like that. Danny's death was an accident. He crossed the road without looking-”

“Yes, because he was on the phone and distracted-”

“You're not responsible for Danny's actions! Danny chose not to look and the driver didn't hit the brakes in time. There is nothing you could've done to prevent that,” her friend tried to reassure her, but it wouldn't quite work. It didn't matter how often Clara heard people say it, she still felt as if it was her fault.

“About the first part, you've been feeling guilty about the way you treated Danny for months and you keep forgetting that you called him to apologize,” Amy reminded her. 

“Don't you think Danny would have forgiven you?”

Clara inhaled deeply. Yes, he would have. Maybe not immediately, but he was Danny and he probably would have. Quietly, she took another sip from her wine glass. When she set it down, Clara nodded.

“Okay, now one last time: are you sure you want to go back to work?”

“Yes,” she confirmed determinedly. Clara had to move on and above all, she had to face the Doctor. She had to see him again and face her guilt. “I need to move on. Christmas is approaching. I'm lonely and I'm bored out of mind. Let's get some work done.”

Amy smiled at her in response. “That's the spirit.”


	28. Chapter 28

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your lovely comments! I don't wanna leave you waiting for that reunion for too much longer, so here we go:

The Doctor was late and it wasn't his fault. Well, at least not entirely. He had been fine upon waking up, but the closer he had gotten to the moment his taxi was supposed to pick him up, the more nervous he had grown. His driver being late hadn't helped even though maybe the Doctor should have called for an Uber a little sooner. Now he was standing in front of the studio and could feel his chest almost burst due to his rapid heartbeat. He was going to see Clara Oswald again in a matter of minutes and he had no idea what to say to her. Should he be mad? Start bickering? Should he play it cool as if the past few months hadn't bothered him in the least? He couldn't quite decide, so he simply stepped into the building.

_“But I know it won't be long till I pack my things and I'll be gone. So for a while, just a while, let me feel at home again.”_

The Doctor stopped behind the corner and for a moment, he did nothing but take in the sound of her voice and for some reason, he found himself smiling. He had missed her. Even though he had spent months trying to deny that simple truth, he had missed her and just hearing the sound of her voice filled him with an almost childlike excitement. Yet there was something else, something strange and the Doctor couldn't quite place it, so he glanced around the corner and instantly spotted Clara Oswald behind the glass window.

But it wasn't Clara Oswald.

Well, it was Clara, but she didn't look quite like he remembered her. Her beautiful face was unchanged, but her hair was shorter now, cut off to her shoulders and the Doctor noticed an air of sadness around her that he had never seen on her before. Something had changed, he knew it the moment he saw her, but it wasn't just Clara. The Doctor had changed as well and the longer he looked at her, the more he realized that he had fallen in love.

He hadn't even noticed that the singing had stopped, but all of a sudden the Doctor became all too aware of the fact that Clara was staring back at him. He must have looked like an idiot.

“Hey,” she greeted him quietly.

The Doctor cleared his throat. Why did his mouth feel so dry? “Hey,” he replied for lack of anything else to say. Then he granted her a smile. “How have you been?”

He watched as Clara opened her mouth, but no sound came out of it and when he blinked, she was gone. It took the Doctor a moment to realize what was happening and it only really clicked when he heard the door to the outside close behind her. Clara had bolted.

“Oh good, you're here. Can we get star-” Missy stopped mid-sentence when she entered the room and looked around. “Where's Clara?”

The Doctor didn't hesitate. He grabbed Clara's jacket from the coat rack and followed her outside through the back door. Whatever had happened, whatever the reason she had left the room, the Doctor would find out.

 

There was a small garden behind the studio and the Doctor found Clara sitting on the steps in front of the door, looking out over the brown, dead grass. At first, he thought that her breath was causing the white clouds above her head, but then he realized that she was smoking a cigarette. Not knowing what else to do, he simply draped her jacket around her shoulders and plopped down next to her.

“You forgot your jacket,” he said matter-of-factly. “A cold is really bad for your voice.”

“Thanks,” she mumbled and took a long drag from her cigarette before she inhaled deeply.

The Doctor tried to look at her, but for some reason, she kept her face hidden from his sight. He wanted to see her. He wanted so badly to see that beautiful face again, but right now it felt as if there was a wall between them. What had happened in these past few months?

“I didn't know that you smoke,” he remarked casually.

In response, Clara blew the smoke out of her lungs. “It's an on/off habit,” she replied and finally, she turned her head and looked him straight into the eyes.

Something had happened. The Doctor just didn't know what. He didn't know anything, least of all what to do or say next.

“I just came out for some fresh air,” she told him. It sounded almost convincing.

The Doctor chuckled softly. “You mean the fresh air you're currently polluting?”

He felt relieved when Clara cracked a smile at last. “The very one.”

All those months had almost made him forget how beautiful she was when she smiled and somehow, it made his heart ache to look at her right now. He was in love and he was confused because he had missed her and it felt like he was still missing her. Then there was that hint of joy and the heart that was hammering in his chest. The Doctor still didn't understand a thing about her.

“Put it out,” he told her softly and then chuckled again as he raised his eyebrows. “Or do you expect me to kiss you with cigarette breath?”

The moment the words had escaped his lips, the Doctor wished that he could just take them back. He wanted to slap his hand over his mouth and curse it for being faster than his brain. But that was what he wanted, wasn't it? He wanted to kiss her and he wanted to go back to the way things had been before she had vanished so abruptly from his life.

Yet the reaction he had feared didn't follow. Clara didn't slap him, Clara didn't start shouting. Instead, she looked at him as if she couldn't believe what he was suggesting.

“You still want to kiss me?” she asked after a long moment and the confusion was audible in her voice.

The Doctor considered his option for a second, but he knew exactly what he wanted to do. Before Clara had a chance to protest, he took the cigarette out of her hand, dropped it on the floor and squished it with his boot. Even though he had done this countless of times, the Doctor's hands were trembling just a little as he lifted them up to cup Clara's face in his palms and once again, his heart started to flutter when he noticed that her skin was just as soft as he remembered it, maybe even more so. Slowly, he bent down and brushed their lips together in a long, soft kiss. It was so much gentler than he had expected it to be and Clara yielded to him in an instant, parting her lips for him as if she had craved it just as much as he had. He was so utterly lost.

He hated it when he started to run out of air and was forced to pull away, but right now, the Doctor couldn't help but smile at her because Clara smiled right back at him. Yes, she was just as marvellous as he remembered.

“I've missed you, Clara Oswald,” he admitted before he could stop himself.

She chuckled softly. “I've missed you, too.”

The Doctor forced himself to let go of her even though it was the last thing he wanted to do right now. He wanted to keep holding her, kissing her, he wanted to take her home and never let her go again, but that wasn't possible. Clara had her altar boy and no one could ever know about them.

“We should probably go back inside,” Clara suggested eventually.

He was about to agree when the door behind them was flung open and Missy towered over the two of them. “There are you!” she exclaimed. “We've been looking all over for you.”

“We were, uhm,” the Doctor paused as he rose to his feet. “We were just catching up.”

When he extended his hand, Clara took it without hesitation and let him help her back up.

“Yeah,” she agreed. “We're good to go.”

For a long moment, Missy did nothing but look at them as if she was trying to determine whether they were lying, as if she suspected something. His manager hadn't seen them, had she? “Mh,” she uttered eventually. “Alright, let's go back in. We've got an album to record.”

Clara nodded wordlessly and stepped back into the studio and even though the Doctor felt more confused than ever, he could do nothing but follow them inside. He had no clue what was happening, but as long as it involved kissing Clara, he was most certainly not going to complain.


	29. Chapter 29

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys for the sweet comments :) Now, let's see what Clara has to say about the recent encounter:

Coming to the label Christmas party had been a terrible idea and somehow, Clara should have known that from the start. A strange cover version of _Last Christmas_ was playing at an insane volume while Clara stirred her cocktail with a straw and looked around at the drunk, sad masses. No one would come here unless they didn't have anywhere else to be, no friends, no families and it had taken Clara about an hour to realize that she was exactly like the rest of them: sad, lonely and if she ordered a few more of these cocktails, she could be drunk as well. She spotted Amy in the crowd and realized to her dismay that she was still dancing happily with her husband Rory and it only increased her frustration. She should never have come here at all.

It was the 24th of December and she was 30 years old and alone with no one to celebrate Christmas with. Danny was dead. Her best friend had her husband and Clara didn't want to impose on them. She was no longer in contact with her family. Yet there was one name that kept entering her head, one person that she shouldn't think about but did. When Clara thought back to the kiss she had shared with the Doctor in front of the studio, she could swear that her lips still tingled from his touch even a week later. She hadn't had the courage to call him, but that didn't mean it hadn't been on her mind.

But what would she even say to him? Tell the Doctor her sob story? Tell him how she had lost Danny? He wouldn't understand. Could she just ask to resume their affair as if nothing had ever happened? Was that what she wanted? Clara didn't know, but there was one thing she was certain of. She really didn't want to be alone on Christmas. After avoiding him for months, Clara had thought the guilt would come crashing down on her when she saw him again, but it hadn't happened. For some strange reason, all she had felt was glad to see the Doctor again.

Just as she was about to rise from her seat and call a taxi, Clara remembered one important question. Would he even want to see her? Would he want to spend Christmas with her? Surely he had a family of his own, but Clara had never bothered to ask him about it. Right now, she realized that she didn't know a thing about him and it hadn't bothered her before, but strangely enough, it did now. In all those moments of intimacy they had shared, they had never really been intimate at all.

“Do you want to dance with Rory?” Amy's voice suddenly tore her out of her thoughts and Clara looked up to see that her friend had appeared by her side, accompanied by her rather uncomfortable looking husband.

Under normal circumstances, Clara would have agreed just to tease Rory a little, just to see the look on his face when she dragged him towards his most hated place in the universe – the dance floor. But tonight, she didn't really feel like it. Gently, Clara shook her head. “Nah, I'm not really in the mood.”

With a sigh, Amy plopped down next to her and granted Rory a look which told him to leave them for a moment, so he headed off towards the toilets.

“I brought you here to take your mind off Danny,” Amy said. “What's the point if you're gonna sit here and brood about him anyway?”

“I'm not thinking about Danny,” Clara replied and it wasn't even a lie. In fact, ever since she had gone back to work, ever since she had seen the Doctor again, Danny had been on her mind less and less. It was the kiss and the gentleness of it that wouldn't let her rest at the moment, but she couldn't tell her friend that. No, if she told her about the Doctor, Amy would consider her either a cheating bitch or a lunatic, depending on how much of the story she knew.

“Oh?” her friend asked curiously, raising her eyebrows. “What are you thinking about then?”

“The fact that it's Christmas and this party is filled with sad, lonely people and I'm one of them,” she growled. “I just want to go home.”

“What? So you can be sad there?”

“Exactly,” Clara argued determinedly.

Yet Amy shook her head. “Not gonna happen,” she replied. “You've been cooped up in your tiny flat for months and it was you who begged me to let you go back to work. This is part of your work, the actual fun part, so you're gonna stay here. We're gonna dance and have fun.”

Clara glowered at her friend in response, knowing that she was beaten.

“Fine, but I'm gonna need a stronger drink than this,” she hissed and nodded towards her cocktail before she rose from her seat. “I'm gonna get us something else from the bar, something strong enough to make me forget that I don't wanna be here.”

Before Amy had a chance to reply, Clara spun around on her heels and headed towards the bar. Luckily for her, the queue was short and the barman was ready to take her order within a minute.

“What can I get you?” he asked happily and Clara had to resist the urge to punch him in his cheerful face. On top of a very positive attitude, he also wore a Christmas hat on his head.

“Uhm, four shots of tequila, please,” she replied and watched as the barman turned around to search for a bottle. He didn't seem to find one.

“I'm sorry,” he said after a moment and put on a bright smile. “I'm gonna have to get a bottle from the storage room. I'll be right back.”

Clara blew the air out between her teeth. “It's fine. It's not like I'm in a hurry to get drunk to drown out this terrible song or anything.”

For a brief moment, the barman seemed confused as if he wasn't quite sure how to interpret her sarcasm, but then he turned around without saying another word and vanished through a door.

Clara tapped her foot impatiently and once again, her most hated Christmas song was blaring loudly into her ear, but as she let her gaze wander over the bar, she couldn't help but notice a bottle of Scotch that was just within her reach. It looked familiar somehow and after a while, she realized that it was the exact same kind the Doctor had once brought to one of their dates. Clara smiled at the memory of how that particular night had ended with drunk fumbling on the sofa and a really bad movie in the background.

Clara didn't think when she reached out and grabbed the bottle and it had disappeared into her purse before anyone could see her. Then she turned to leave.

“Hey, I found the tequila!” she heard the barman call after her.

“I changed my mind!” she replied in response and then hurried out of the club before anyone had a chance of stopping her. Clara wasn't going to spend Christmas Eve in this hell hole.

* * *

“Visiting someone special?”

Clara looked up and realized that the Uber driver had stopped in front of a small, pretty shabby house. It was then that it dawned on her that she had never actually visited the Doctor at his own flat. Whenever they had met, Clara had always invited him to stay at her penthouse. She had no idea if she had even come to the right place.

“Uhm, yeah,” she replied absent-mindedly and then instantly realized what she had said. “No. God, no, no one special.”

The Uber driver chuckled in response. “Friends or family?”

Clara frowned at him even though he couldn't see it in the darkness of the car. “None of your business,” she spat and reached into her purse to pay him for the ride.

“Merry Christ-” the driver attempted to say, but Clara simply closed the door in his face and turned around to face the building in front of her.

In coming here, she had acted on an impulse. She had stolen a bottle of Scotch and now she was here, not really knowing what to do or what to say to the Doctor. For a moment, she tried to tell herself that he probably wasn't even at home, but the light in the window told Clara otherwise. She had exactly two choices: go upstairs or turn around and go home to drown her sorrows on her own, but she knew that she had already made her decision a half hour ago.

Clara had no idea how he was going to react and her heart was beating insanely fast as she raised her hand to ring the doorbell. It was trembling just a little. Would he get angry? Would he send her away? Well, she would soon find out.


	30. Chapter 30

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas to you all!!! I hope you're all having a wonderful few days with loads of presents and good food and a lovely time with your family and loved ones. Now, as promised, dropping a christmassy Christmas chapter for you to enjoy. Thank you all for the wonderful comments on the last one :)

The Doctor glanced up from the book he was reading and for a brief moment, he considered the possibility that he had merely imagined the doorbell. When it rang again, he frowned. It was Christmas Eve and he wasn't expecting visitors. Donna was in Scotland with her family and Missy made no secret of her loathing for the holiday, so the Doctor had no idea who could be visiting him on this day.

Slowly, he rose from his seat, threw the book aside and made his way towards the door, already preparing a speech to tell them to go away, whoever they were. However, when the Doctor opened the door, he stared right into the face of the very last person he had expected to see over the holidays.

“Clara,” he blurted out in surprise and right now, he couldn't even think of anything else to say. His heart was doing that thing again, beating faster like it now did when he looked at her. The Doctor wasn't quite sure when that had started. “Wh-what are you doing here?”

In response, she held up a bottle of his favourite Scotch. Was it his imagination or did she seem nervous as well?

“I'm bored,” Clara replied eventually. “Amy dragged me to a terrible Christmas party and I had to choose between frying my brain by listening to _Last Christmas_ on repeat or stealing a bottle of Scotch and visiting you. Can I come in?”

Warily, the Doctor raised his eyebrows. “Are you sure your brain hasn't been fried already? Or did you really come here out of your own free will?”

Clara glared at him in response. “Do you want the Scotch or not? Cause I can leave-”

The Doctor didn't want her to leave. In fact, he wanted the complete opposite and he was strangely happy that she had decided to stop by, but the surprise had momentarily left him speechless. Instead of saying anything, he simply reached for her arm and pulled her a little closer, greeting her with a short peck on the lips.

“Scotch sounds great,” he said, a light smile on his lips. Yes, he was happy to see her.

Clara's face lit up as well and the Doctor could have sworn he heard her giggle as she stepped inside his flat and only when she uttered the first curse word did he remember that his place looked like a rubbish tip.

“Holy shit!” she gasped. “This is where you live?!”

The Doctor cleared his throat. “It's more modest than your penthouse.”

To his surprise, Clara laughed and lifted a sock off the armrest of his chair. “It's a tip!” she argued jokingly and threw the dirty sock at him.

He caught it at the last moment. “Excuse me, you're a guest here, so you shouldn't insult my. . . tip.”

She chuckled in response. “At least you admit it,” Clara said, but then she started to frown as her gaze wandered around the room. “Hang on. Where's your Christmas tree?”

“Uhm,” the Doctor uttered in confusion. He hadn't had a Christmas tree in over a decade. “I don't have one.”

At first, Clara frowned at him, then her lips curled into a smirk. “That's unacceptable,” she concluded and before the Doctor knew what was happening, Clara had reached for his arm and started dragging him towards the door. He wanted to ask what the hell was going on, but his sentence was cut off when Clara reached for his coat and threw it at him.

“Come on,” she told him. “There's a guy selling Christmas trees around the corner. He was just starting to pack up when I drove past. If we're quick, we can still catch him! Come on!”

 

The Doctor had no chance to protest as she ushered him out of the building and strode down the street. He had no choice but to follow her.

“Are we really gonna buy a Christmas tree?” he asked because he still felt as if he had missed a particular memo. He was happy that Clara had decided to spend Christmas Eve with him, but who had put her in charge of the decoration of his flat?

“Absolutely,” she confirmed. “If I'm gonna spend the evening at your tip, then it better be a christmassy tip. Now hurry up!”

They reached the seller just in time before he was able to load the remaining Christmas trees onto his truck. Admittedly, there weren't a lot of trees left and they had to choose between an enormously tall pine tree that would surely need to be shortened to fit in his living room and a small, rather stumpy looking one that was missing a few twigs on one side. Clara regarded it for a long moment, seemingly unsure.

“Well, I suppose we could turn that side towards the wall,” the Doctor reasoned.

“Mh,” she hummed in reply.

“And it's not like we're gonna find another tree at this time of day.”

The seller cleared his throat. “Well, I'd like to go home, so take it or leave it.”

“We'll take it,” Clara responded before he could and a moment later, the seller handed him the tree while she reached into her wallet to pay.

Whatever was happening, the Doctor didn't know, but that didn't mean he didn't like it at least a little bit.

 

Twenty minutes later, the empty Christmas tree took up the centre of his living room, held up by the stand he had found somewhere in the depths of the basement storage room and the Doctor couldn't help but laugh at the pathetic sight. It was missing branches and twigs on every side and it didn't matter how they turned it, there was always a gaping hole in the green of the pine tree.

“Well, I suppose it'll look better once it's decorated,” Clara reasoned.

“I have nothing to decorate it with,” he admitted and noticed that Clara turned her head to look at him. It took a moment, but then they both started to laugh. He was still laughing when Clara picked the dirty sock off his chair and threw it at him once again.

“We'll improvise,” she chuckled.

“With what?” the Doctor frowned at her. “Dirty socks?”

She shrugged.

“You can't be serious,” he replied and aimed to throw the sock back at her, but the Doctor missed and it landed right in the branches of the Christmas tree. Clara couldn't actually be serious about this.

Still, she giggled. “What?” Clara asked and gave him a nudge. “Is it not rock 'n roll enough for you?”

“Fine,” he growled. “But if I run out of socks tomorrow and catch a cold and die, it'll be your fault.”

In response, Clara grinned at him. The Doctor had no idea why she had come here, but the alternative was to spend Christmas on his own once again and he really didn't fancy that option. So naturally, he would give in to her no matter what.

The Doctor turned up the volume of his stereo until _Merry Christmas Everybody_ by Slade was blaring through the speakers before he and Clara started to rummage through his flat in order to find something, _anything_ to decorate their rock 'n roll Christmas tree with. While he was still trying to find a suitable position for the pair of dirty socks, Clara returned from the bathroom with a handful of clothes pegs and proceeded to pin the colourful selection on the twigs.

“This is ridiculous,” the Doctor muttered, but nevertheless he went into the kitchen to retrieve the roll of tin foil. He tore it into pieces and scrunched them up into makeshift baubles.

“See,” Clara said with a smile, “you're starting to get the hang of it.”

“Admit it, you only came here to make me decorate a Christmas tree with silly things and then humiliate me in some way or another,” he replied and then hung one of the tin foil baubles on the nearest branch.

“You've seen right through me,” she joked and just as Clara was about to hang a CD next to his bauble, the Doctor couldn't hold back any longer.

He reached out and placed his arms around her, pulling the giggling Clara against his chest before bending down to kiss her. Despite the disappointment, he had missed her so much over the past few months and even though something had changed, even though his feelings had changed, he still wanted her as much as he had during the summer. She smiled against his lips before she opened up to him and the Doctor knew exactly what was going to happen tonight and he felt a jab of excitement course through his body when he thought about taking her clothes off and pulling her down on his bed.

Yet his plan was thwarted when the doorbell rang again.

The Doctor uttered a groan when he pulled away and Clara raised her eyebrows at him. “Are you expecting someone else?”

“Not that I know of,” he replied reluctantly and started to make his way towards the door. When he opened it, the Doctor stared right into the face of his elderly neighbour.

“Could you please turn it down a little?!” the old man yelled at him over the sound of the music. “Some people are trying to watch the Christmas programme.”

“I'm sorry,” the Doctor uttered instantly.

“Yeah,” Clara confirmed as she poked her head around the corner. “We'll keep it down.”

The man's eyes instantly grew a little bigger as he spotted Clara and the Doctor realized that his neighbour had recognized her.

“She'll slip an autograph into your letterbox before she leaves,” he told him and then closed the door in his neighbour's face.

When he turned around, Clara was smiling at him.

“Finish decorating and then open the Scotch?” she suggested hopefully.

The Doctor beamed at her in response. “You read my mind.”


	31. Chapter 31

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for your sweet comments! I hope you had a wonderful Christmas :)
> 
> But. . . what is Christmas without a bit of angst?

Clara sipped her drink and once again looked up at the Christmas tree. It didn't matter how long he stared at it, it never ceased to be at least a little bit funny. After the Doctor's initial hesitation and protest, they had started to decorate it with clothes pegs, tin foil baubles, CDs and some of his socks. For lack of tinsel, Clara had suggested using a few scarves until the Doctor had produced the longest scarf she had ever seen from the back of his wardrobe. The stripey piece of knitwear had been draped around the tree multiple times and a big, brown hat adorned the treetop. It was ridiculous and she loved it. However, Clara vowed that next year, she would make him buy actual tree decorations.

Next year.

As soon as Clara caught herself thinking about a possible future with the Doctor, she took another sip and quickly brushed the thought aside. He didn't like her, so there was no chance they would ever do something like this again. It was a shame because right now, for the first time in months, Clara almost forgot what it felt like to be lonely and sad. The Doctor was the first person who could make her forget.

“You're awfully quiet,” he remarked after a moment.

Clara turned her head and smiled at him. “Just admiring our Christmas tree.”

“Alright,” he replied and then leaned forward to pour them another drink. For a moment, she felt like declining because neither of them had eaten anything and she could already feel her head spin a little. But then the Doctor continued. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Uhm,” she paused. Something about the tone of his voice told her she wouldn't like the direction in which their conversation was headed. “Sure.”

“Why did you vanish last summer?”

There it was, the perfect moment to tell the Doctor about what had really happened. Clara could tell him about the accident, about her guilt and maybe he would even understand. But he was the Doctor and there was a chance that he wouldn't, that he would laugh at her, make a nasty remark and ruin everything. She just didn't want to risk it.

Clara cleared her throat. “Uhm, well, I just. . . I needed a break,” she explained and it wasn't even a lie. She had really needed a break after losing Danny.

“I tried to call you.”

“I know,” Clara replied. “Sorry, I. . . uhm. . . I really didn't feel like talking to anyone when it came to work. Before we started working on the album, I had only come back from a tour and I was stressed and tired and. . . well, in desperate need of a break.”

Slowly, the Doctor nodded, but she felt like there was still something that he wanted to say and Clara vowed to cut him off before he had a chance. She needed to change the subject, she needed to get the lightheartedness back or else she might actually start to cry and tell him everything about Danny. So Clara did the only thing she could think of.

“ _They've got cars big as bars, they've got rivers of gold, but the wind goes right through you, it's no place for the old. When you first took my hand on a cold Christmas Eve, you promised me Broadway was waiting for me_ ,” she started to sing, grinning at the Doctor in the process. “ _You were handsome._ ”

It took the Doctor a moment, but eventually, he started to smile back at her and joined in. “ _You were pretty, Queen of New York City. When the band finished playing, they howled out for more._ ”

“ _Sinatra was swinging, all the drunks they were singing._ ”

“ _We kissed on the corner and danced through the night._ ”

They both broke off, laughing and smiling at each other and Clara took a deep breath, feeling a sudden sense of relief. Why couldn't it be like this all the time? Why couldn't they just get along, like each other equally? It had taken her a while to notice, but if this night was proof of anything, then that she needed the Doctor. It had started months ago, but Clara had denied it for a long time. The moments she spent with the Doctor were the only moments she actually felt free.

“Will you be at the label party on New Year's Eve?” she asked him.

In response, the Doctor wrinkled his nose. “Nah, I don't think so. I hate parties.”

“Oh, okay,” Clara breathed in reply, trying to hide her disappointment. It would have been nice to see him there. “Well, if you change your mind, I'll be there.”

“Yeah, but I probably won't.”

She finished her drink and noticed that the Doctor did the same. However, when he sat down his glass, he once again had that look on his face and Clara knew that there was another question coming.

“Why aren't you spending Christmas with the altar boy?” he wanted to know, slurring his speech just a little.

Under different circumstances, Clara would have made fun of him now, teased him because she was still better at holding her liquor than he was, but right now, Clara only gulped. Even though she had known the Doctor would ask about Danny at some point, she was still surprised by his bluntness. While a part of her mind was screaming at her to tell him the truth, to tell him how much she was hurting, another part just wouldn't let her. She still missed Danny, she still felt guilty and by now she believed that it would never go away. It would be pointless to share her grief with the Doctor.

“Danny is nothing of your concern,” she replied defensively, her voice sharp. “I thought we had already established that.”

To avoid his gaze, Clara reached for the bottle of Scotch and poured them both another drink. She emptied her glass in one go, but it didn't help the nasty feeling in the pit of her stomach. It was her fault that he had died, it was _their_ fault. Their affair had killed the man she had loved and here she was, still enjoying the Doctor's company. Even after Danny's death, Clara was unable to just end their relationship. She truly was the most horrible person on earth.

Yet when she looked back at him, Clara noticed the Doctor's drunken grin. “Let me guess. He's too busy attending the birth of Jesus.”

“Shut up,” she told him.

The Doctor chuckled. “Did he drink all the communion wine and pass out in the vestry?”

“Shut up.”

“Is he secretly screwing the vicar?”

“ _I said shut up!_ ” Clara shouted at him and her voice cut through the silence that had suddenly spread over his flat.

The Doctor looked at her, obviously taken aback by the sudden sharpness of her voice and her shouting. Clara was trembling with anger, but she wouldn't allow him to talk badly about Danny, not anymore. She had tolerated it for far too long.

Clara opened her mouth, but the words died out in her throat once more. She just couldn't tell him, she couldn't admit to him that she was hurt, that she was grieving, that she was a wreck in desperate need of help. Clara hadn't been able to admit it to anyone, not even Amy. Danny had been the only person to see through her mask of perfection, the only person capable of seeing the real Clara: lost, lonely and desperately trying to regain control over her life. Now that Danny was gone, Clara was drifting and there was nothing for her to hold on to. Even the Doctor was out of reach.

Clara swallowed the words she had meant to say and sniffed once, fighting back the tears that often came when she thought about how she had treated Danny. “I think we should go to bed,” she reasoned.

“Uhm-” the Doctor stammered, but Clara instantly cut him off.

“No,” she replied immediately. “I'm not in the mood for that tonight.”

“That's okay,” he said quietly. “That's fine.”

 

Together, they made their way into his bedroom and Clara was glad when she could take off her dress and sink down on the soft mattress, but even when she had climbed under the warm, comfortable duvet, the nausea in her stomach wouldn't quite go away. Was it the Scotch or the guilt? Clara couldn't say. Most of the time, she thought it was a combination of both.

“Good night,” the Doctor said softly and turned his back towards her before he switched off the light.

When Clara looked at him and in the darkness, she could only just make out the shape of him next to her. She only needed to reach out to touch him, he was no more than an arm's length away from her and yet, Clara felt like they were worlds apart and she was alone even though the Doctor was lying in the same bed. She bit down on her lip as she considered her options and a part of her just wanted to be held. That was all she wanted, to sleep in his embrace, to not feel so goddamn lonely even if it was just for a night.

“Doctor,” she whispered quietly and now the tears came running down her cheeks in earnest and there was no way to stop them.

“Mh?” he muttered sleepily.

Clara swallowed, suddenly thinking that he would laugh at her if she asked. They just didn't have the kind of relationship where they could cuddle and sleep in each other's arms. The Doctor would never want to have that kind of connection with her.

“Good night,” she replied hoarsely and turned her back on him as well. While the Doctor was beginning to snore next to her, Clara cried quietly, praying for some kind of miracle, praying to finally wake up and realize that her life had been nothing but a nightmare.


	32. Chapter 32

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys so much for all your lovely, wonderful comments! Good to know I managed to frustrate you with their inability to talk, but let's see how the story goes on, shall we? Cause it obviously can't go on like this forever. . .

The Doctor was certain of one thing: coming to the label party just because Clara Oswald had asked him to was a stupid idea. He wasn't entirely sure why he would even do that, go to one of his most hated events just for a woman who didn't even like him. Now that he had stepped into the club, he wasn't even sure how he was going to find her. The place was crowded and people were bumping into him left and right even though he stood completely still. Stupid, stupid idea.

Maybe the Doctor felt just a tiny bit guilty. Things hadn't gone so well between them on Christmas Eve and he couldn't even say why that was because Clara refused to answer his questions. Well, she had answered, but the Doctor hadn't believed a single word. He was convinced that something had happened, but he and Clara weren't close despite their affair, so naturally, she wouldn't confide in him. But the truth was that he wanted to get close to her, he wanted more from her than the affair they had had during the summer, yet at the same time, the Doctor was aware that it would never happen. He just couldn't compete with the altar boy.

“ _You came!_ ”

The Doctor spun around on his heels and his heart skipped a beat when he looked into Clara's pretty face. She was as gorgeous as ever tonight and for a moment, his mouth felt a little dry when he looked at her in her short, navy dress. However, when Clara started to make her way towards him through the crowd, the Doctor noticed that she was swaying heavily, staggering more than she walked and he was fairly certain that it wasn't just because of her high heels. When she had reached him, Clara almost stumbled and the Doctor caught her at the last moment before she was able to spill her drink over the two of them.

“Sorry,” she mumbled.

The Doctor granted her a smile, but he refused to let go of her waist. He reasoned that he should hold her just in case she lost her balance again, but the truth was that he just loved to have her in his arms. “Easy there,” he chuckled. “You've already been celebrating, I see?”

“Yeah. Party's dull, guests are dull,” she slurred, but then a smile spread across her lips and she let herself fall against his chest. “But you're here now. You can dance with me.”

The Doctor laughed. “I don't think you'll be doing a lot more dancing tonight,” he told her.

“Oh, come on,” Clara giggled and gave him a nudge, but in the attempt, she only threw herself off balance and the Doctor had to hold on tight to keep her from toppling over. Still, Clara attempted to wriggle free from his embrace as she took his hand and tugged at it. “Let's get you a drink.”

“Clara-”

She cut him off, grinning drunkenly. “Or we could find a quiet spot,” she suggested sultrily. “Like a broom closet?”

The Doctor wasn't quite sure where it had come from, but suddenly, he felt worried. He had never seen her like this. Of course, he had seen her get tipsy and even drunk, but it wasn't even 10 pm and Clara was already past the point he considered acceptable for this time of night. For some reason, it worried him.

“Clara, are you okay?” he asked her sincerely, as quietly as was possible in such a loud environment.

“Sure,” she drawled in response and gave him another smile. “Let's go somewhere and take our clothes off!”

When he noticed the first party guests turn around to look at them, the Doctor uttered a nervous laugh. “I don't think you should suggest that so openly,” he told her in a calm manner. “What happened to keeping it quiet? What if Danny finds out?”

Before the Doctor could react, Clara pulled away from him and the smile vanished from her face as she glowered at him. “Are you embarrassed to be seen with me?!” she asked him more loudly than he would have expected.

He watched her step backwards and as she appeared to lose her balance again, the Doctor reached out to hold her, but Clara struggled free from his grip. She was angry. For some strange reason, she was angry with him and the Doctor had no idea what he had done.

“Clara, please,” he tried to reason with her, keeping his voice as quiet as possible so as not to attract the attention of the other guests even more than they already had. “Let's just go home and talk there, okay?”

“Go to hell!” she spat and when the Doctor blinked, Clara was gone.

The Doctor craned his neck, trying to spot her in the crowd, but she was nowhere to be seen. Not knowing what else to do, he walked across the room even though he had no clue which direction she had taken. How was he ever going to find her in here? But he had to find her. He had to take her home before anything bad happened and above all, he had to find out what was wrong with her. If the Doctor had needed any more proof that Clara wasn't alright, then that was it. It just wasn't like her at all.

 

“Wow, what an honour!” a Scottish voice said right next to him and when the Doctor turned around, he spotted Missy raising her eyebrows at him. “You're the last person I expected to see here.”

“Have you seen Clara?” the Doctor barked at her, ignoring everything else. He had to find her.

“Oh yeah,” Missy replied instantly and then uttered a laugh. “She's had a drop too much, hasn't she?”

“Where?!”

His manager seemed a little taken aback by the sharpness of his voice and frowned at him. “Somewhere in this room. Why? What do you care?”

“I need to find her!”

“Calm down,” Missy raised her voice at him. “She'll pop up sooner or later. And since when do you care about her? I thought hated that bitch.”

The Doctor growled at her in response, but decided not to answer her question. He had more important matters to worry about. “I'll see you around,” he snarled and pushed his way past her, deeper into the crowd. He had to find Clara sooner rather than later.

* * *

Clara took the glass out of the barman's hand and downed the shot before she could think better of it. The room was spinning around her and she was well aware that she had already had too much, but going home early wasn't an option and neither was sobering up. Somehow, she managed to screw everything up. Everything she touched just went wrong. Her career, Danny and now the Doctor. Nothing ever turned out the way she had hoped. For some reason, Clara felt like crying and she knew all too well what Amy would have to say about that. Crying at the club, they had already done that and Clara wasn't keen on a repeat, but her good mood had vanished with the Doctor's rejection.

“I think you should go home.”

Clara turned around and noticed that Amy had appeared next to her, but no matter how hard she tried, Clara just couldn't focus on her face. Everything was so blurry.

“You're not my mother,” she attempted to say, but she wasn't quite sure if the words had come out the right way. In the back of her mind, Clara knew that Amy was right, that the Doctor was right. But she would be damned to admit that.

“Come on,” her friend said softly and Clara was vaguely aware that Amy was trying to get her to move. Clara was determined not to budge. “Let's go home. I'll come with you.”

“Leave me alone!” she shouted and rose to her feet. The sudden movement was a mistake and her legs almost gave way underneath her. “You, the Doctor, everyone just leave me alone!”

With all the strength and determination Clara could muster, she turned around and staggered away. She wasn't in the mood for a lecture, she wasn't in the mood for Amy or the Doctor. What she really wanted was for a big, black hole to open up and swallow her so she would be released from her miserable existence.

* * *

The Doctor wasn't sure how much time had passed, but there still was no sight of Clara. He should never have lost her in the crowd and he had to find her and take her home, no matter how much she resisted. Then finally, he spotted a familiar face in the crowd. However, the relief of seeing Amy soon vanished when he noticed the worried look on her face as she came closer.

“Doctor, I need your help,” she told him as soon as he was within earshot.

“Why? What happened?”

The redhead exhaled sharply. “I normally wouldn't ask you this because I know how much you despise each other, but you need to take Clara home. You need to convince her to go home because I've tried and I've failed and I'm worried. Clara isn't well.”

“Why?” the Doctor asked immediately, ignoring the feeling of his heart sinking into his boots. Something had happened and Amy knew what that was. He had been right.

Clara's manager hesitated for a while, obviously uncertain whether she could tell him or not. “Doesn't matter,” she replied after a moment and then pulled a piece of paper out of her pocket that she handed to the Doctor. “This is Clara's new address. Please, just take her home, I don't care what it takes. Drag her out of here by her hair if it helps, but please, take her out of here. She's been like this for a while and I'm afraid we're headed for another breakdown.”

“Why? What is wrong with her?” he demanded to know.

“She lost her boyfriend,” Amy blurted out eventually. “But don't tell her I told you.”

Lost? What did that mean – lost?

“Please, just get her out of here,” her manager pleaded with him and then gave him a push in the direction of the bar.

 

It didn't matter what it meant. If Danny was out of the picture, he had a chance, but it also meant that he had probably hurt her with his questions on Christmas Eve. Now more determined to find her than ever, the Doctor made his way towards the bar and sure enough, he soon spotted Clara just as she was about to accept another drink from the barman. He caught her just in time to intercept it.

“That would be mine, thanks,” he said and placed the glass aside.

It took Clara a moment to realize just what was happening and when she finally turned around to look at him, her face was pale and her eyes unfocused.

“You-” she attempted to say, but the words got stuck in her throat while her gaze darkened. There was no doubt she was about to shout at him again, but her reflexes weren't quick enough.

To take the wind out of her sails, the Doctor smiled at her. “Still wanna go somewhere quiet?” he asked gently.

“Not with you,” she drawled and turned her face away.

The Doctor scooted a little closer. Take her home, that was what Amy had asked him to do and that was what he would do. He just had to find a way to make her see reason. “Well, I'd like to,” he told her softly. “I'd like to be alone with you. And I'm sure you don't wanna be stuck in here when the fireworks go off soon?”

When Clara failed to respond, the Doctor reached out and took her hand. Her entire body seemed to be glowing. Then suddenly, she gasped for breath.

“I feel sick,” she muttered and the Doctor didn't hesitate for another moment. He placed his arm around her and helped her up from her seat.

It took a bit of effort and the Doctor kept his arm firmly around her waist as they walked, but together they slowly made their way through the crowd and towards the door. He retrieved their coats at the exit and a few moments later, they both stepped outside into the cool night air.

Clara drew in a sharp breath and then sank against his chest. Sometimes, the Doctor was still surprised how small she appeared in his arms.

“Are you ready to go home now?” he asked softly.

He felt her nod against his chest and uttered a sigh of relief in response. It was going to be okay. Whatever it was, whatever had happened, the Doctor would help make it okay.


	33. Chapter 33

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for your comments! Sorry to torture you with this slow burn O:)

The Doctor would have called a taxi, but Clara's flat wasn't too far and he had the impression that the fresh air was helping with her nausea. Or at least she had stopped complaining about it. While they walked, the Doctor held on to her waist and Clara leaned on him with what he felt had to be her entire weight, but even if she grew too heavy, the Doctor was determined not to let go.

“How's the nausea?” he asked when they turned around the corner and in the distance, he spotted a few apartment complexes, one of them Clara's.

“It's okay,” she mumbled, but her voice sounded a little clearer than it had when they had left the club. The walk and the fresh air was helping her sober up and he took it as a good sign. All he needed to do was take her to bed and she would be fine, he hoped. Then suddenly Clara uttered a sound of surprise. “Oh no. I lost my sunglasses.”

The Doctor chuckled in response. “Sunglasses? You brought sunglasses to a New Year's Eve party?”

“They were cool sunglasses,” she argued weakly.

In response, the Doctor tightened his grip on her and led her through the front door into the building. “We'll get you new ones next year,” he promised.

Together, they stepped into the elevator and Clara pushed a button. Right before they set into motion, Clara turned her head and looked at him. Her inquisitive gaze was surprisingly clear.

“Why are you being so nice to me?” Clara wanted to know and the Doctor was a little surprised by her question. He hadn't expected it and right now, he was too baffled to come up with a lie, so all he could tell her was the truth.

“I don't wanna fight and bicker all the time,” he admitted. “I mean, don't get me wrong, it does have a certain appeal, but not when you're obviously having a rough day.”

Clara bit down on her lip and then lowered her gaze as she nodded. The elevator gonged and when the doors opened up, the Doctor watched as she moved forward, but unaided, she lost her balance once again and he caught her before she stumbled over her own two feet.

“Okay, let's write down a basic rule,” he said jokingly. “Don't get drunk in high heels. It's a bad plan.”

“Right,” she agreed and then went ahead to unlock her front door.

As soon as he stepped inside, the Doctor couldn't help but be surprised at Clara's new flat. She had made fun of his place, but these four walls weren't much bigger than his own apartment and only a little cleaner. It was cosy, yes, but small and he couldn't imagine for the life of him why she would trade her penthouse for this shoe box when she obviously had enough money. Then he remembered what Amy had told him. She lost her boyfriend. Lost how? What on earth had happened in those months he hadn't seen her?

“Well, I'm home,” she said once she had struggled out of her coat and looked up at him. The Doctor noticed that she made an effort to appear sober when the alcohol was probably still coursing through her head. She was pale. “You can leave now. But thanks for bringing me here.”

Slowly, the Doctor shook his head. “I'm not leaving,” he said gently.

In response, Clara frowned at him.

“Not before you tell me what on earth happened to you,” he said, “what happened to Danny.”

When the Doctor thought she had looked pale before, he now watched the remaining colour being drained from her face at the mention of his name and it was at this moment that he recognized the signs. Oh God, how could he have been so stupid when he had gone through the exact same thing? All of a sudden, the Doctor felt as sick as Clara probably felt right now. He looked at her, at her new haircut, at the sadness in her eyes, at the tiny flat and he recognized himself in her. He had also done a lot of stupid things after River's death.

But before he could say another word, Clara turned around and ran off into the bathroom. Without hesitating for a second, the Doctor followed her and watched as fell down on her knees next to toilet bowl. Not knowing what else to do, he knelt down next to her and stroked her hair out of her face as she emptied the contents of her stomach into the toilet.

“That's right,” the Doctor said in a hushed voice. One arm was wrapped around her shoulder, the other was keeping the hair from falling into her face. It didn't matter what she said to him, he wouldn't leave her out of his sight tonight. “Out with the poison.”

Clara gagged a couple of time, but after a while, he heard her cough, followed by a deep intake of breath before she slumped back down on the bathroom floor and leaned against the tub. The Doctor got up just for a moment to fill her toothbrush mug with water and then sat down next to her, handing her the water.

“Here, drink this,” he told her.

Clara emptied the mug of water in one go, either because she was thirsty or because she wanted to get rid of the taste in her mouth, but when she handed the mug bag to him, the Doctor noticed that she was shaking and that there were tears in her eyes.

“Better?” he asked hopefully and then the most unexpected thing happened as Clara flung her arms around him in a desperate embrace and started to sob so mercilessly that the sound shot straight through his body.

There was nothing the Doctor could do except to close his arms around her in the tightest embrace possible.

“Danny is dead,” she wailed despairingly. “He died last summer.”

The Doctor thought he had never seen anyone cry so hard before and he wasn't really sure what to do, how to comfort her because he knew from experience that there was nothing that could make the pain go away except time.

“I'm sorry,” he whispered softly and pressed a kiss to her head. “I'm so sorry, Clara.”

“It was my fault,” uttered in between sobs. “He died because of me, because of what I did. We were on the phone when. . . when-”

Clara broke off, gasping for air and the Doctor pulled her a little closer to his chest. So that was why she had vanished, that was why she hadn't called or visited in all those months and right now he thought that he should have been there for her whether she would have wanted it or not.

“I know it's tempting to think like that, but it's not your fault,” he told her calmly. “It's one of the universe's cruel jokes and no one is to blame.”

Clara sniffed in response. “I treated him like crap. I loved him and I still lied and cheated.”

“Ah, yeah,” he uttered. “That wasn't very nice.”

Finally, she raised her head and looked at him. Her eyes were red, but at least some of the colour had returned to her face.

“I'm a horrible person,” she whispered, followed by a sniff.

The Doctor shrugged. “We're all horrible people sometimes. No one's perfect, not all the time. I mean, it's part of being human to be selfish sometimes. But it's no use tearing yourself apart over something you can't change. The best you can do is promise to do better next time.”

To his surprise, Clara raised her hand and wiped the tears from her eyes. More were coming, but at least the sobbing had stopped.

“No one has ever said that to me,” she replied quietly, obviously taken by surprise by his choice of words. “Everyone told me that I wasn't so horrible to him, that he would have forgiven me, but I knew that it was wrong and that they were lying to cheer me up.”

“Oh no, you were horrible,” the Doctor confirmed. “But knowing the altar boy, he probably would have forgiven you.”

Clara uttered a short, soft laugh despite the fact that she was still crying.

“Hey, how about we go to sleep and you tell me everything in the morning, mh?” he suggested carefully and raised his hand to wipe another tear from her cheek. “You need sleep, lots of it. And probably something for the inevitable hangover.”

Clara granted him a soft, sad smile and nodded.

 

Before she could stop him, the Doctor swept her up and Clara uttered a sound of surprise as he carried her out of the bathroom and into the adjoining bedroom. She chuckled softly when he lowered her down on her bed and then turned around to have a look at her room.

“I have to admit, I like this one better than your penthouse. It's cosy. Homely,” he determined before he looked back at her. “Where do you keep your favourite PJs?”

Clara frowned at him for a moment, but her eyes wandered towards the chair next to her dressing table and he discovered a comfortable looking pair of flannel pyjamas on the backrest. He picked it up and threw it at her. “Put on your PJs,” he told her. “I'll have a look at your kitchen in the meantime.”

A few minutes later, the Doctor returned with a package of crackers, a glass of water and aspirin that he set down on Clara's bedside table before he walked towards her window and opened the blinds.

“What are you doing?” she asked him and by now she sounded dead tired.

“The fireworks are gonna start in a few minutes,” he reasoned while he took off his own clothes and climbed under the duvet. “I thought you might wanna see them. Eat your crackers.”

“Not hungry,” she argued.

“Do as you're told.”

Grumbling in reply, Clara turned around and retrieved the crackers to put the plate between them. The Doctor instantly snagged one.

“They'll soothe your stomach a bit,” he told her.

“Thank you,” Clara mumbled and started to nibble on one of the crackers. “I don't know why you're being so nice. I don't even deserve this.”

“Everyone deserves a little kindness.”

To his surprise, Clara put the cracker down. “Can you-” she began, but then broke off for a moment. Even in the dim light, he could see that her tears had returned. “Can you just hold me?”

In reply, the Doctor reached for the plate and set it down on the bedside table again before he wrapped his arms around Clara and pulled her against his chest. “Absolutely,” he said and it surprised him that she felt like she had to ask. There was nothing the Doctor wanted more than to hold her.

The sky in front of Clara's bedroom window lit up and a second later, they heard the sounds of fireworks exploding over the city. The new year had officially started. Clara turned around in his embrace to watch, but the Doctor vowed not to let her go. He closed his arms around her from behind and left a kiss on her hair. He would hold her until she asked him to let go.

“Happy New Year,” he whispered softly.

Clara sighed. “Happy New Year.”

“It's gonna be better than the last, I promise,” the Doctor told her and he felt Clara sink back against his chest. He wouldn't let her go. Not now. Not ever.


	34. Chapter 34

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the wonderful, kind comments :) It was about time for them to talk, wasn't it?

The next morning, Clara woke with a start and when she sat up, she was instantly greeted by a pounding headache that was accompanied by a foul taste in her mouth and a bout of nausea that told her she was facing another bad hangover. But what was even worse than the thought of spending the day curing a headache was the realisation that the bed was empty next to her and Clara felt her heart sink into her boots.

Even though her memory of last night was a little blurry, she remembered the Doctor taking her home and she remembered crying herself to sleep in his arms. A part of her had truly believed that he would still be here, but she now realized how stupid it had been of her to assume that he cared about her. Of course, he would vanish at the break of dawn without even leaving a note because that was the kind of relationship they had, that was the kind of relationship she had lost Danny over.

Then suddenly, Clara heard a rattling from the kitchen and she turned her head towards the door just in time to see the Doctor stick his head through the crack. Her spirits lifted in a matter of seconds.

“Oh, you're up,” the Doctor said, smiling softly. “I was just about to wake you.”

Clara couldn't help the smile that spread across her face in response. She couldn't have stopped it even if she had wanted to. Somehow, the fact that he was still here meant the world to her and it made her insanely happy. “I just woke up,” she replied.

“I hope you don't mind, but I used your kitchen to make breakfast because I'm really, really hungry. I made croissants and I found the jam and boiled some eggs. Oh, and coffee. I made coffee,” he said, obviously a lot more excited about the prospect of food than she currently was. “Can we eat?”

Clara giggled at his enthusiasm. “Yes,” she confirmed, still smiling. “Let me just brush my teeth, okay?”

“Sure,” the Doctor said and beamed at her before his head vanished again.

 

When Clara threw the duvet aside and made her way into the bathroom, her hangover suddenly didn't seem all that bad anymore. The unrest in her stomach was still noticeable, but somehow, Clara doubted that it had anything to do with the amount of alcohol she had consumed the night before. No, this was different. She was _happy_. The Doctor was still here and it made her happy. For the first time in months, no, years, Clara felt like everything was going to be okay.

“Wow, you really didn't lie about the breakfast,” Clara remarked as she stepped into the kitchen and her eyes fell on the large selection of food and she plopped down in her favourite chair, reaching for a croissant.

“How is the hangover?” the Doctor wanted to know while he poured them both a cup of coffee and he sounded genuine in his concern for her wellbeing.

“Apart from the headache, I'm fine,” she replied and then raised her eyebrows at him. Just because she was happy to have him here, Clara wasn't stupid. “Why are you still here? Why are you taking care of me?”

The Doctor hesitated for a brief moment and took a sip from his coffee while pondering his answer. “Cause you're having a rough time,” he replied eventually. “And because Amy asked me to take you home. She's worried about you, you know?”

And just like that, Clara felt her happiness vanish. He wasn't doing it for her but for her friend.

“And so am I,” the Doctor added.

Okay, maybe the happiness wasn't entirely gone. He cared about her at least a little. He cared enough to worry about her.

“Yesterday wasn't the first time this happened, am I right?”

Slowly, Clara shook her head. The Doctor didn't respond immediately. Instead, he reached for one of the boiled eggs and cut it open before he placed it in her egg cup. She had no choice but to eat it now.

“Hope you like them hard-boiled. I can't stand it when they're all slimy inside,” he remarked.

Clara granted him a smile as she took up a spoon and started to eat. “I'm the same,” she replied. “Thank you for staying. I'm having a bit of a hard time being alone at the moment.”

“I understand,” the Doctor said softly. “Do you want to tell me what happened?”

Over breakfast, Clara started telling him about her guilty conscience over their affair, about how she had decided that something needed to change. She told him about the phone call she had made to Danny, her confession of love and the silence that had followed.

“I had to put the album on hold,” she said. “I couldn't face you because I felt so guilty. I felt responsible for what had happened to Danny because if we had never started the affair, then the phone call wouldn't have happened and everything would have been fine. And the worst part was that I couldn't tell anyone. Not even Amy knew about us and I was afraid that she would judge me, that she would confirm all those feelings of guilt that I had and then I felt guilty for feeling just as bad about myself as I felt about losing Danny and. . . well, vicious circle.”

When the Doctor gave a soft nod, Clara felt as if a weight had dropped off her shoulders because finally, she was able to get it all off her chest. And the reaction she had feared didn't happen. The Doctor didn't judge her, he didn't laugh at her. He just listened.

“You do know that's a perfectly normal way to feel, right?” he asked after a while.

“No,” she replied sharply. “How would I know that? Everyone just kept telling me to stop feeling guilty as if there was a button I could push that would make it all go away.”

“Ah, if only there was a button,” the Doctor sighed. Then he granted her a smile. “That would make it so much easier, wouldn't it?”

“Yes,” she admitted weakly.

“And the partying and drinking, that's not a long-term solution. That's just running away from your feelings.”

“Danny kept saying that,” Clara replied and took a deep, long breath. Maybe it was time for her to stop running and face the truth. Right now, for the very first time, Clara felt like she could if she was brave enough.

“I'm really sorry about Danny,” the Doctor said sincerely.

Even though she knew that he meant it, Clara couldn't help but chuckle. “You hated him. You kept calling him _altar boy_.”

“Just because I didn't like him doesn't mean he deserved to die, especially because you're the one suffering. I'm sure he was a good guy.”

“He was,” Clara confirmed with a smile. “With Danny, I could be sure that he wanted me because of me, not because of my fame or my money. He didn't care about any of that. In fact, it terrified him in the beginning.”

“How so?” the Doctor wanted to know and sipped his coffee.

Clara smiled at the memory of that. “We met in a café. I was in a hurry to get to an appointment and I just really wanted a cup of coffee and when I turned around, I bumped into Danny and poured my coffee all over his crisp white shirt. So I, being in a hurry, just got a new cup and gave him Amy's business card that I had in my pocket and I told him to call that number and they'd pay for the cleaning or a new shirt.”

“I'm assuming he called?” he asked.

“Yep,” Clara confirmed with a big grin. “He called Amy, but not to have his shirt cleaned. He said the only compensation he would accept was a coffee date with me.”

The Doctor looked impressed. “That's bolder than I would have expected of him. Nice move, altar boy.”

She laughed in response. “He had no idea who I was, thought I just worked for the label and he kept calling and asking Amy to talk to me until she was so fed up that she made me go on a date with him just to get him to stop calling. He was mortified when we met and he found out I was sort of famous.”

The Doctor laughed with her. “I can just imagine the look on his face,” he remarked. “He sounds like he was a decent guy.”

“He really was,” Clara confirmed and the melancholy had returned to her voice. Danny had deserved a lot better than the mess she had dragged him in. The suddenly, Clara felt the Doctor reach for her hand. He squeezed it softly.

“I know it doesn't feel like it right now and I know you've probably heard this a million times, but it really does get better over time. I can't tell you when and I can't promise you that you will stop missing him, but it gets easier.”

For a reason she couldn't quite explain, Clara believed him more then she had believed all the others who had told her. She nodded softly.

“That being said,” the Doctor continued and suddenly, the tone of his voice had changed, “do you think we can get a couple of days off?”

Clara frowned at him in response, not really sure what he was aiming at. “Uhm, yeah,” she replied in confusion. “Sure. Why? What have you planned?”

“You need a change of scenery,” he determined. “You need to get out of the house for something other than recording the album or a party. And there is a place I haven't been to in a while that I'd really like to show to you.”

The frown on her face only deepened. “You're being mysterious.”

“Yes, I'm a man of mystery,” the Doctor replied, chuckling. “Or I just want to take you on a little trip for a few days. Out of the city. Somewhere nice. I'm sure you'll love it.”

Clara considered it for a moment. She had spent months cooped up in her flat and she had never actually taken that holiday she had wanted so much. A few days out of town sounded like a good start and a nice idea to take her mind off Danny, off work, off everything that was bothering her here.

“Will you tell me where we're going?” she asked.

“Nope.” The Doctor shook his head. “It'll be a surprise.”

Clara shrugged. “Alright. But bear in mind that if you take me into the woods and murder me, a lot of people will come looking for me and they will find out who killed me.”

The Doctor smiled in response. “I'll take that into consideration.”

With a happy sigh, Clara leaned back into her seat. Yes, maybe it was finally going to be okay. She had a good feeling about this.


	35. Chapter 35

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wish you all a happy (belated) new year!!!
> 
> Thank you for all the kind comments! You're the best readers out there!

“I just need to get out of the city for a while,” Clara argued. “You know, change of scenery, get some fresh air, that kind of thing.”

“Clara,” Amy sighed on the other end of the phone, but Clara didn't pay her friend a lot of attention while she was stuffing clothes into her suitcase. The Doctor still hadn't told her about where they would be going. Would it be warm? Cold? Did she need a waterproof jacket? Well, she would just have to take something of everything to be sure. “You can't just call me and tell me you're going away without telling me where exactly you're going!”

“Yes, I can,” she insisted. “I am an adult in charge of my own life. You're my manager, Amy, not my babysitter.”

Once again, her friend sighed. “Okay, let me be quite honest with you. I am worried about you. I have been worried for a while, but especially now. I know you're grieving and that's okay, I understand that. But your drinking and partying have got a little out of hand and just two days ago at the party, I genuinely thought you were heading towards another breakdown. What happened that night, Clara?”

She stopped after she had thrown her pyjamas into the suitcase and took a deep breath. “Nothing happened on New Year's Eve,” she said. “Well, nothing out of the ordinary. I had a bit too much to drink, yes. The Doctor took me home and I cried my eyes out on his shoulder. But you know what? It felt good. It felt better than talking to you and it certainly felt better than talking to that annoying therapist you sent me to two months ago. And while we're being honest: I lied. I didn't go back for a second meeting.”

“Wow, suddenly I'm feeling so much better about you leaving the city,” Amy replied, her voice dripping with sarcasm. But then, something about her tone changed. “Hang on, you talked to the Doctor? I thought you hated each other.”

Clara knew she could have told Amy about the affair, she could have told her that she was starting to develop feelings for him that went beyond a physical attraction, but her friend was right about one thing: she was still grieving and even though the Doctor was a source of comfort in her life, her feelings were a confusion she would definitely save for later.

“Well, he's not actually that bad,” Clara admitted eventually. “He was really nice yesterday.”

“Yesterday?” her friend enquired curiously. “That means he spent the night?”

“He did,” she confessed. “I was in bad shape that night and he stayed with me. Yesterday morning, he made me breakfast and listened to my entire sob story and it felt good. It also made me realize that I've never actually taken that holiday I've been begging you to give me for a year, so I'm gonna go away for just a few days. I'm going to relax. I'm gonna bring a good book, I'm gonna take long walks, I'm gonna stay away from parties and alcohol and just clear my head for a few days, so there is absolutely nothing you'll need to worry about. I'll be back before you know it.”

“Are you going on your own?” Amy wanted to know.

Clara opened her mouth, ready to lie to her best friend, but something held her back. “No,” she confessed. “I'm going with the Doctor.”

Finally, she heard Amy utter a sigh of relief. “Good,” she concluded.

She frowned at the phone in response. Somehow, after months of complaining about him, Clara had expected a little more from her friend than a “good” upon hearing the news that she was going on a holiday with what probably looked like her sworn enemy.

“Good?”

“Yes,” Amy confirmed. “I never understood why you two kept bickering like schoolchildren and I'm glad you're finally getting along. Besides, if talking to him makes you feel better, then I absolutely approve. I just want you to be okay, that's all.”

“Thank you,” Clara said softly. “So, I don't know where he's taking me, but if I'm not back in a week I'm probably dead in a ditch somewhere and you know it was the Doctor who strangled me.”

“I'll be sure to call the police,” her friend said with a chuckle. “Have fun.”

“Thanks,” she replied and then hung up.

 

Clara only had time to pack a few more jumpers and trousers before the doorbell rang and, giggling with excitement, she closed her suitcase and headed out of the door. The Doctor was waiting in front of her apartment building next to a rather fancy looking car and as he took the suitcase from her and stuffed it into the boot, Clara couldn't help but wonder where exactly he had managed to get a car.

“I thought you didn't own a car,” she remarked as she climbed in through the passenger door.

“It's Missy's,” he explained. “I sometimes borrow it when I want to go out of town.”

“That's nice of her,” Clara said. “Well, nicer than I had expected of her. Are you still not gonna tell me where we're going?”

“Scotland,” the Doctor replied and when he turned his head towards her, Clara saw that he was grinning.

“I feel like I should have guessed.” She chuckled. Clara had been Scotland multiple times for her concerts, but she hadn't actually seen much of the landscape at all while she had been stuck in a hotel room in the city centres of Edinburgh, Glasgow and Aberdeen. She was looking forward to discovering the country through the car window.

“I own a house there,” the Doctor went on. “Well, a small one, more like a cabin, but the area is nice and I haven't actually been there in a long time.”

“Why not?” Clara wanted to know.

The Doctor hesitated to answer and somehow, Clara thought that it was strange, but before she could ask about it, the Doctor cut her off.

“I have a belated Christmas present for you,” he announced and pointed at her knees. “Open the glove compartment.”

In response, Clara frowned at him for a moment, not quite sure what to reply at first. “I wasn't aware we were giving each other Christmas presents now.”

“Just open it, okay?”

“Alright,” Clara said, laughing in defeat as she turned around and opened the glove compartment. Inside, she spotted a small, rectangular box wrapped loosely in crimson wrapping paper and a bow. She took it out and weighed it in her hands. It was surprisingly light.

“Well, your gift wrapping skills still have some room for improvement,” she remarked as she untied the bow and then just tore off the paper to reveal a silver cardboard box with the red Ray-Ban logo printed on one side. Inside was a brand new pair of Clubmaster sunglasses.

“Oh my God,” Clara uttered in surprise and turned her head to look at the Doctor.

He granted her a sheepish smile. “Well, you mentioned that you lost your sunglass on New Year's Eve and I thought we would look cool on an album cover wearing Ray-Bans,” he reasoned.

Clara's face lit up before she leaned forward and placed a soft kiss on his cheek. “Thank you,” she replied. “It's a very cool and very thoughtful gift.”

She didn't know why, but for some reason, her heart was beating a little faster when he took the sunglasses out of her hand and placed them carefully on the bridge of her nose. He was so gentle with her and for a moment, Clara thought it might have been because of what she had told him, but she realized that it had started a lot earlier. Their kiss in front of the studio had been gentle just like the one he gave her when he bent down and brushed their lips together. Clara was loving this side of him. She was loving the attention and the gentleness and a part of her wished that he had shown it earlier. The attraction and the sex and their music were one thing, but Clara thought she had never appreciated him as much as she did right now. For the first time, Clara had the impression that it meant something.

The Doctor was still smiling when he pulled away. “Are you ready to go to Scotland?”

“Yes,” Clara replied, beaming at him and suddenly, it hit her. She was still grinning when she leaned back in her seat, almost unable to believe it even though by now she was quite sure. She was falling in love.


	36. Chapter 36

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some more happiness, some more revelations. . . you ask, I deliver :D Thank you for the sweet comments, guys!

When the Doctor stepped out of the car, he was glad to find that the cabin looked just like it had in his memory. It was all there, right in front of him. The small, wooden cabin, the little lake that was currently frozen over, the other cabins a little further down the hill and the city in the distance. Sixteen years. The Doctor hadn't been back here in sixteen years.

Somehow, he had always imagined that it would make him sad to see the house again, to be in that place that held so many memories, but the only thing he truly felt was the relief to have come back and kept his promise. Sixteen years later, the Doctor had fulfilled his late wife's dying wish at last.

“It's beautiful,” Clara said and when the Doctor turned to look at her, he noticed that she had her eyes set on the city below them. Then she turned her head and frowned at him. “Why haven't you been back here in a while? It's gorgeous. If I had a house like this, I'd be here every weekend.”

“It's a long story,” he explained and then raised his hands that were packed with two large shopping bags. The Doctor wasn't entirely sure how well Donna had stocked the house up on basic groceries, so they had stopped at a supermarket and bought enough to feed them for a few days just in case. “Let's get these inside, shall we?”

Clara beamed at him in response and skipped ahead. The Doctor followed her a little more slowly and he couldn't help but marvel at the influence their little trip already had on her. Two days ago, when he had taken her home from the party, the Doctor had been truly worried and probably rightly so, but something had changed since then and a smile spread across his face when he considered the possibility that maybe he had brought about that change. It had taken him quite some time to see it, but Clara was a marvellous woman and she more than deserved to be here. He was sure of that.

“Oh God, it's freezing in here,” she complained as soon as they had stepped inside the cabin and Clara had made an attempt to take her coat off. She had soon buttoned it back up.

“Sorry,” he muttered when he switched the light on. “There are some blankets on the sofa. I'll put the food away, make us a cup of tea and join you, okay?”

“Good plan,” Clara agreed and the Doctor thought he could hear her teeth clatter as he made his way towards the kitchen.

 

He was surprised to find the house exactly the way he had left it sixteen years ago and he made a mental note to thank Donna for taking such good care of it in his absence. And yet, something about returning here after so many years felt a little strange. The Doctor had imagined it to be different, he had imagined that it would be a big deal to once again step through these doors, that he would be flooded with memories of his late wife, but that wasn't it. The only thing he felt was the excitement to open a new chapter in his life and the relief of finally putting the past behind him.

“Tea and hot water bottle,” the Doctor announced and Clara instantly outstretched her arms when he dropped the hot water bottle into her lap and handed her the steaming mug.

“Oh, thank you,” she replied instantly as she wrapped her hands around the warm beverage.

“I switched the heating on,” he explained. “Should be warm and cosy in a bit.”

Clara nodded softly, but then she turned her head and looked at him through inquisitive eyes. “Why are you avoiding my question?”

In response, the Doctor frowned at her. “Question? What question?”

“Why haven't you come here in a while?”

The Doctor sighed and as if by instinct, he tightened his grip on the mug, ignoring the burning sensation the hot tea was causing. “Are you sure you wanna hear that story? It's kinda maudlin.”

“Out with it,” Clara demanded and granted him a soft smile before she blew on her tea to cool it down. “After all, I told you my story. I mean, it's only fair.”

Knowing that he was defeated, the Doctor set his mug aside, deciding that the tea would still be too hot to drink for several more minutes. He might as well use the moment to tell Clara why they were here even though he wasn't quite sure she would appreciate the gesture. The Doctor inhaled deeply before he spoke.

“I was married once,” he admitted.

Clara cocked her eyebrows in response. “Are you gonna tell me that you're still in love with her and the house is bringing back all those happy memories?” she asked, huffing softly.

“My wife died sixteen years ago,” the Doctor explained and he watched as the amused expression vanished from Clara's face in an instant as her eyes widened.

“Oh, I'm sorry. I. . . I didn't mean it like-” she spluttered in reply.

“It's alright. Sixteen years is a long time,” he said. “She died of cancer and it was a long process. We had time to say goodbye, time to make peace with it.”

“I can't imagine that it would make it much easier even if you know what's coming,” Clara remarked.

The Doctor could only shrug. “Well, it does make it a little easier, I guess. Not much. But at least you get to say goodbye, you get to say all those things you want the other person to know. I was grieving for a long time, but I moved on.”

“What about the cabin though?” Clara wanted to know and the Doctor smiled in response. If he focused hard enough, he could still hear River's determined voice.

“River, my late wife, she knew how much I loved it out here. It wasn't so much our place as it was my place and before she died, she asked me to make a promise.”

Clara sipped her tea, eyeing him expectantly.

“She told me not to come back here unless-” the Doctor broke off, unsure whether he should really repeat River's words in front of Clara. If he finished the sentence, it would make it all real and he wasn't sure if Clara was ready for the truth about his feelings.

“Unless?” she enquired.

The Doctor took a deep breath. “Unless it was with a woman I've been seeing for a while, a woman I care about.”

It took her a moment to reply and the Doctor watched as Clara's eyes grew wider when the realisation of what he had just said was beginning to dawn on her. “Oh,” she uttered.

“I mean, I've had girlfriends,” he spluttered in response. “But, uhm, but not anything serious enough to. . . to-”

“To grant your wife's dying wish?”

“Exactly,” he confirmed and blew the air out of his lungs. “I just thought you'd. . . well. . . you'd appreciate the change of scenery after. . . you know.”

“I get it,” Clara replied and finally, a smile spread across her face. That was all the Doctor ever needed to know that the sentiment was appreciated. It wasn't as if he had expected her to say anything back, no, it was far too early for her to be doing that. The loss of Danny was still too fresh.

“I thought about selling it about a million times,” the Doctor said, laughing. “I could've really used the money, but I could never bring myself to do it. So I asked a friend to take care of the cabin until I was ready to come back.”

“I'm glad you haven't sold it,” she replied earnestly.

The Doctor was surprised when Clara suddenly reached for the collar of his shirt and pulled him down to her level until their lips met for a deep, soft kiss.

“Thank you,” she whispered when they eventually pulled apart. “For bringing me here.”

“Uhm,” the Doctor paused. “You're welcome.”

Chuckling, Clara sank back in her seat, but as her gaze wandered across the room, the smile faded from her face and was replaced by a frown. “Hang on, where's your telly?”

“I don't have one here,” he replied. “This cabin is about getting away, about relaxing, not fretting over the news.”

The Doctor was taken by surprise when Clara rose from her seat, a determined expression on her face. “Well, you're lucky I brought my laptop and I have some really good movies on there. Get us some snacks, will you?”

Smiling to himself, the Doctor got up and made his way towards the kitchen. Yes, Clara's spirits had lifted and he was positive that this trip had been an excellent idea for them both.


	37. Chapter 37

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys so much for your sweet and kind comments :) They're together now, Clara is slowly healing and they have sort of been open about their feelings. But is all really well?

Clara blinked a couple of time before she opened her eyes for good and a smile spread across her face when she spotted him. The Doctor was lying in bed next to her, fast asleep and snoring quietly. She giggled softly when she noticed that he still had his arm wrapped around her waist. A few days ago, Clara had asked him to hold her and something told her that the Doctor wasn't going to let go of her anytime soon. Everything was so strange, so new, so exciting even though he had known each other for almost a year now. What had changed? What had caused them to move from a cold-hearted affair to sleeping in each other's arms in a cosy cabin, dressed in their unsexiest flannel pyjamas? Clara couldn't say, but she definitely appreciated the change. She appreciated that he was kind and loving towards her even though she had made it anything but easy for him.

Still giggling, Clara leaned forward and pecked him on the lips. The Doctor uttered a grunt in reply and stirred in his sleep, but he didn't properly wake up, so Clara made another attempt. This time, the kiss lasted a little longer.

“Good morning,” she whispered happily. “The sun's up, the birds are chirping, Clara is hungry.”

“It's cloudy, it's winter and Clara is talking about herself in the third person,” he mumbled sleepily, barely opening his eyes at all.

“I'm gonna make us breakfast, okay?” she suggested.

The Doctor uttered a grunt in response and pulled her a little closer, but Clara was determined not to waste this time that they had here together. She knew it would come to an end sooner rather than later.

“I'll be back with coffee,” she whispered and finally, a smile spread across his face.

A few days ago, the Doctor had told her that she shouldn't feel guilty over something she could no longer change but to instead do better next time. Clara hadn't realized it up until she had woken up this morning, but this was it, this was the next time, this was her chance to do better. She wouldn't treat the Doctor like she had treated Danny. This time, she would be fair and honest and she would appreciate the good things in life and the Doctor was definitely one of those.

 

Carefully, she wriggled out of his embrace – not entirely without hearing him protest – and reached for her bathrobe. Once she had wrapped the warm piece of clothing around her body, Clara made her way downstairs and even though she had already marvelled at the house last night, she couldn't help but do it again.

The cabin seemed to be made entirely out of wood. There were logs on the outside and logs on the inside wall and she didn't need a lot of imagination to know why the Doctor hadn't wanted to sell it. It was a gorgeous, utterly cosy place and even though they hadn't even left, Clara already knew she wanted to come back here again. Clara had never truly felt at home in her penthouse and right after Danny's death, she had packed up her things and moved back into her small flat. Something about it had felt as if the walls wrapped around her in a comforting gesture. Out here, Clara didn't feel as if she was in need of comfort. For the first time in months, she could breathe freely.

She had only just opened the fridge to decide what to make for breakfast when Clara suddenly became aware of the sound of footsteps behind her and she smiled at the thought of the Doctor following her out of bed.

“Do you want omelettes? Croissants? Boiled eggs?” Clara asked, giggling. “We literally bought everything.”

When Clara spun around, however, the smile slowly faded from her lips as she stared into the face of a stranger. There was a woman standing right in the Doctor's kitchen.

“Uhm,” Clara spluttered in surprise. “I'm sorry. . . what are you doing here? How did you get in?!”

The redhead crossed her arms in front of her chest. “I could ask you the same thing, sweetheart,” the woman hissed.

In response, Clara mirrored her posture and pushed herself up on tiptoes to make herself seem taller than she actually was.

“I came here with the Doctor,” she replied sternly. “What's your excuse for breaking and entering?”

Suddenly, the woman's features lit up and her mouth curled into a mischievous smirk. “Johnny!” she called out. “Get your arse out of bed, you dog!”

From one moment to the next, Clara suddenly understood and as the redhead stepped forward to shake her hand, she knew that this woman could be no one but the Doctor's friend who had been taking care of this cabin in his absence.

“I'm John's friend, Donna,” she introduced herself. “And it's a pleasure to meet you.”

“Yeah,” Clara breathed in reply, still feeling a little overwhelmed by the surprise visit and the revelation. “Hang on, _John_?”

“You must be Clara Oswald,” Donna said, smiling broadly at her. “He has told me a lot about you and by that I mean he's told me basically nothing and what I know I had to squeeze out of him, but you know what he's like.”

“Donna, what the hell are you doing here?!” the Doctor's voice came from upstairs and when Clara turned her head, she watched him trudge down the stairs while a yawn came over him.

“I'm taking care of your house like you've asked me to,” she replied defensively. “Temperatures dropped below zero last night and I came to turn up the heating a bit. Don't want another frozen pipes incident, do you?”

“Thank you, Donna,” the Doctor said as he came to a halt next to her. He smiled, but Clara could tell that it seemed a little forced and she didn't need to ask him to know that he hadn't actually planned on meeting his friend here. Though why that was, Clara couldn't say. “Well, we're here, so. . .”

“You want me to leave,” Donna finished his sentence and all of a sudden, Clara was hit by a wave of guilt.

“You could stay for breakfast,” she suggested before she could think better of it. “I mean, we brought more than enough food. At least you won't have made the trip for nothing.”

“Donna has a family. She has better things to do than to have breakfast with us,” he growled.

“Doctor, don't be rude,” Clara reminded him sternly. “Your friend took care of this cabin for the past sixteen years. The least you can do is offer her breakfast.”

While the Doctor mumbled something in reply, Clara watched as a smirk spread across Donna's face.

“You've chosen well, John,” she remarked and Clara grinned at them both in response.

“He has,” she confirmed, unable to stop feeling at least a little smug.

The Doctor's gaze instantly dropped to his feet. “Clara and I aren't. . . I mean, we. . . uhm.”

She sniggered at his shy remark. Well, they weren't officially a couple, but they sort of were in a relationship. A fresh one, a weird one, but they were no longer a meaningless affair. Clara didn't feel like filling Donna in on the details at this point because she enjoyed how flustered the Doctor looked.

“Don't be silly, Johnny,” his friend said. “You brought her here, so you definitely _are_. Well done! Now, you mentioned breakfast?”

“I'll make it,” Clara threw in, smiling happily. “It'll be ready by the time he's done blushing.”

Giggling, the two women made their way towards the kitchen counter and Clara appreciated Donna's help as they started to prepare the breakfast. Somehow, she could hardly stop smiling. Clara was part of his life now, part of his world. They had let each other in at last and if she was quite honest, Clara had to admit that she had no intention to leave anytime soon.


	38. Chapter 38

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so glad you're enjoying the fluff! Thank you for your kind words - have more fluff as a reward <3

When the Doctor set his guitar back down, he caught Clara smiling at him from the other end of the sofa after she had finished scribbling down the last notes of their song. It was moments like this that he wished he knew what was going through her head and even though Clara had begun sharing some of her thoughts and feelings with him, she still was a mystery to the Doctor sometimes.

“I guess that's it,” she said after a moment. “All the songs we need to make our album happen.”

The Doctor scoffed softly. He had completely forgotten about the album. During the last few days, it had been about Clara, about them both, not about the album, which was the only reason they had even met. Maybe it was the only reason they were here at all.

“Feels weird, doesn't it?” Clara went on.

“What does?”

She gave a shrug. “Finishing the album.”

In response, the Doctor chuckled softly. “Well, there's still all of the recording and the promotional stuff,” he replied because the idea of finishing their work wasn't one he liked to entertain. There was no reason for them to see each other after the album was finished and he didn't want to think about their relationship coming to an end.

Then suddenly he noticed that Clara cocked her eyebrows at him. “You know what else feels weird? The way you acted when Donna showed up.”

“Ah,” he uttered. Donna catching them was not something he had planned. “Well, I figured you'd find it weird that. . . uhm, that she knew about you. And Donna is always blowing things out of proportion. I was afraid she'd put you on the spot.”

To his surprise, Clara started to laugh. “The only one being weird was you,” she replied. “I thought she was nice.”

“She thought we were a couple,” he argued, but Clara just brushed his argument aside with a waving hand gesture.

“Let her,” she said before her face turned into a grin. “Or do you think it's embarrassing for a man like you to date an attractive, young woman? Is that beneath you?”

“Clara-”

“Ugh, terrible! A beautiful woman touched you,” she teased him, still grinning broadly and finally, the Doctor's face lit up as well.

“Downright disgusting. I mean, have you seen you? Gorgeous face, perfect body, lovely hair – who'd want that? No wonder I was embarrassed.”

Clara giggled in response, but somehow, the Doctor could feel her gaze boring into him as if she was considering a new question already.

“So, your real name is John?” she asked and then bit down on her lip as if she felt a little bashful for not asking about his proper name earlier. It had been on their contract, but the Doctor doubted she had paid a lot of attention to that detail back then.

“John Smith,” he said and then cracked a smile. “Why? Is that a problem?”

Again, she shrugged. “No, I just thought it sounded. . . I don't know, ordinary? Yeah, ordinary.”

“I'm not sure what to reply to that, _Clara Oswald_ ,” he chuckled.

Clara laughed with him and for a brief moment, the Doctor thought that he loved her. Everything between them had changed over the course of the last few days, it had become so much easier and so much more confusing at the same time and he didn't know what to make of it. Were they actually going somewhere? Were they, in a strange way, a couple after all? Were they just enjoying each other's company? The Doctor couldn't say and it was probably too early to know, especially after Clara's recent loss, but whatever they were doing, he really didn't want it to stop.

As if Clara had read his mind, she suddenly moved from her spot on the other end of the sofa and before he knew what was happening, she had straddled his lap and hooked her arms around his neck. The sensation of her body so close to his own made his skin tingle and the butterflies in his stomach went crazy at the excitement.

“Wh-what are you doing?” he spluttered.

Clara granted him a soft, warm smile. “I just realized we haven't done this in a while,” she explained.

“This?” the Doctor asked.

She laughed and the sound of it shot straight through him. It made his heart skip a beat to hear that she was actually happy right now. “ _It_ ,” she replied. “I mean sex, you idiot.”  
In response, the Doctor raised his hands and cupped Clara's cheeks in his palms. Her skin was so soft, so warm. He wanted to be with her more than he wanted anything else in the world right now.

“Are you sure you're ready?” he asked, his voice hushed. Then he stroked a stray strand of hair out of her face and fastened it behind her ear. “There's no rush. We have all the time in the world.”

“I've missed you,” she admitted. “These past few months, I've missed you. I've missed what we had even though I knew I shouldn't. And this-”

The Doctor cut her off before she had a chance to finish her sentence. Somehow, he knew what she was going to say because he felt the exact same thing. He had missed being with her, but he also felt that what they had now was infinitely better, so the Doctor simply pulled her down for a kiss. It didn't matter what they were to each other. The only thing that mattered was that they both felt and wanted the same things.

They kissed each other hungrily as if they had all these months to make up for and the Doctor could tell, that a lot of things had changed – but only for the better. When he undressed her, it felt just as exhilarating and exciting as it had the first time, but there was something else as well. It seemed as if she had only grown more beautiful in his absence. He kissed and caressed every inch of her skin that he could reach and he didn't find a single spot that wasn't perfect. Everything about her was perfect from her lovely scent to the sound she made when she sucked in her breath. By now, the Doctor knew her body just as well as she knew his, but after such a long time, it felt like he was discovering her all over again. Yet he only truly realized how much he had missed her when the Doctor finally sank into her. With their lips locked and entwined in an impossible embrace, far away from the rest of the world, he understood that they were doing more than having sex. They were making love for the very first time.

* * *

The sofa was small and narrow, but the Doctor held her so close to him that somehow, they both fit. Their breathing had returned to normal a while ago and still, Clara hadn't quite come down from cloud nine just yet. For some reason, it all felt a little too good to be true. She was happy, she was in love and the man next to her seemed to be exactly what she needed right now.

“Are you okay?” the Doctor asked softly.

In response, Clara craned her neck and smiled at him. “Yes,” she replied truthfully. “More than okay. I'm happy.”

His features lit up when he heard her words. “I'm happy, too. And I'm happy that you're happy.”

Clara wanted to freeze this exact moment. She wanted to stay here, in this cabin with the Doctor because she knew that once their little trip ended, she would have to go back to everything that interfered with her happiness. The pressure of putting together a new album, the promotional work, the fans that recognized her in public. The Doctor was one of the few things about her life that she didn't hate.

“Thank you,” she whispered before she could stop herself.

The Doctor raised his eyebrows at her and Clara nudged him in response, laughing.

“Not for the thing you did just now, silly,” she chuckled. “For everything. Well, I guess that somehow includes the sex, but you know what I mean.”

“Yes,” he replied with a smile and Clara felt him tighten his arms around her as he pulled her back against his chest. “I know.”


	39. Chapter 39

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the sweet comments :) Glad you're enjoying the fluff. Mh, what's that? Is that trouble I smell?

When Clara was starting to wake up, she blinked a couple of times and was surprised to find the bed next to her empty. A frown appeared on her face right before the noise started. In her sleepy state, it took Clara a while to place the sound until she realized that it was music. Loud music. Laughing softly and shaking her head, Clara reached for her robe and started to make her way downstairs to find the source of the early noise.

Once she had reached the kitchen, she spotted the Doctor skipping through the room to _Dreamin'_ by Status Quo. He looked utterly happy while he was preparing them breakfast and whistling along to the tune.

“You're a ridiculous idiot, do you know that?” Clara said, laughing and finally, the Doctor noticed her as he spun around.

A big smile spread across his face when he saw her. The Doctor was still holding the spatula in his hand. “I'm making scrambled eggs. Are you hungry?”

Still, Clara couldn't help but laugh. “A noise is what you're making,” she replied, but the silly sight of him almost made her forget all about the rude awakening.

Clara stepped forward and went up on tiptoes to kiss him, yet she uttered a sound of surprise when the Doctor suddenly closed his arm around her and pulled her a little closer. Then, while their lips were still touching, he started to twirl her around to the music. It was silly, but Clara couldn't deny that she was enjoying it immensely. The Doctor was doing a very good job at making her forget about the problems that waited outside this cabin and a part of her wished that they could just stay here and never leave. What a wonderful life that would be.

Apparently, she had jinxed it with her thoughts because a moment later, the Doctor's phone started buzzing on the kitchen table. She watched him glance at it.

“Aren't you gonna answer it?”

“It's Missy,” he growled and closed his arms back around her waist. “Let's ignore her and put the eggs in the frying pan, yes?”

Just as Clara was about to agree, her own phone was starting to ring and out of the corner of her eye, she spotted a message from Amy on the display.

“Damn managers,” she muttered and the Doctor stepped away from her and turned down the music.

The Doctor uttered a long and heavy sigh. “I'll tell Missy to fuck off, you tell Amy to leave you in peace and we'll go back to the scrambled eggs in two minutes?”

In response, Clara granted him a weak smile as she reached for her phone. “Deal.”

 

When the Doctor retreated into the living room, Clara unlocked her phone to see that a number of messages had accumulated over the past few hours, all of them from Amy. Sighing, she flicked through them.

_I know you're sort of on a holiday, but we need to talk as soon as you get back._

_Better yet: let's have a meeting with the Doctor and Missy as soon as you're back in London. Gimme a call._

_P.S. Don't look at the newspapers in the meantime._

_And don't worry. It's nothing bad. Just something we should discuss once you're back. Enjoy your holiday in Scotland._

Clara frowned at her phone and she felt a sudden urge to find the nearest kiosk because she definitely wanted to read a newspaper now after Amy had told her not to. What had happened? What was that damned press saying about her now? Whatever it was, it had something to do with the album and the Doctor because why else would Amy want the Doctor and Missy to be there? Clara growled internally and suddenly wished that she had never glanced at her phone at all because her holiday mood had most definitely vanished.

 

The Doctor cleared his throat behind her and when Clara turned around to look at him, she noticed that he seemed a lot less excited than he had a few minutes ago.

“We have a tiny, little problem,” he announced.

The frown on Clara's face only deepened. “Why? What happened?”

He shrugged. “Missy wouldn't say, but she told me to come back to London and to bring you. Apparently, she knew we were here together.”

“Amy will have told her,” she reasoned. “I had to tell Amy where I was going. And I suppose they said something about us in the papers cause she asked for us all to meet.”

The Doctor nodded softly and Clara guessed that Missy had asked him the exact same thing. Whatever had happened, it had ended their little holiday and Clara knew that the Doctor felt it, too.

Growling, she wrapped her arms around his chest and squeezed him tightly. “I don't wanna leave,” Clara complained, a hint of despair in her voice. “I wanna stay here for at least a year.”

To her surprise, the Doctor chuckled. “A year, huh? And who's gonna record that album for us while we stay in bed all year?”

“Don't care,” she grumbled in reply. “The label can kiss my ass.”

“How about we come back here once we're done with the album?” he suggested and somehow, Clara thought he sounded hesitant as if he wasn't entirely sure how she would react to that proposal.

Clara craned her head and looked up at him and she wanted to say yes on the spot until it hit her and she realized just what that answer would imply. It meant that there was something between them that went beyond their album, something that could last longer than their musical relationship. Her heart skipped a little beat when she realized that the Doctor might want that, too – because she certainly did.

But there was another voice in her head, one she hadn't paid any attention to so far. Clara was falling in love with the Doctor. She was falling in love when she hadn't thought that this would ever happen to her again. It hadn't happened with Danny, well, not really, not like this. It was exciting as well as scary. When Clara had first seduced the Doctor in a broom cupboard, she had never expected to end up like this. Then again, a lot of things had happened since she had met him and Clara could have predicted none of them. Maybe falling in love with the Doctor was just one of those things that had to happen, one of those things she couldn't prevent even if she wanted to. But did he actually feel the same thing when a few months ago they hadn't even been able to have a proper conversation without it turning into a fight? Clara couldn't say, but she hoped that he felt something for her.

“I would love to come back,” she admitted after a moment and then finally cracked a smile.

“That's a deal then,” he confirmed, smiling broadly as he pulled her closer. “But. . .”

“But what?”

“Missy didn't say we have to return today,” the Doctor replied, grinning at her. “I think tomorrow is soon enough.”

“Right,” Clara confirmed before she pushed herself up on tiptoes until their lips met. When the Doctor opened his mouth to let her in, she almost forgot what was waiting for her at home. But only almost. Yet Clara was determined to use her last day of freedom with the Doctor as best as she could because their work and their daily routine would catch up with them sooner rather than later.


	40. Chapter 40

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And a big group hug for all the faithful and new commenters :) Thank you so much!

The Doctor's feet felt a little heavy as they stepped into the café and his hopes of having a quiet cup of coffee alone with Clara faded when he already spotted their managers sitting at one of the tables. A part of him wished that they had just ignored the phone calls and stayed in Scotland, but now that they were here, they had little choice but to listen to what Amy and Missy had to say. Wordlessly, the Doctor sank down into a chair.

“So, what happened?” Clara wanted to know as she took the seat next to him. “It sounded quite urgent.”

The Doctor noticed that Missy wore a smug smile on her face and somehow, it made him dread what was to come even more.

His manager didn't say anything as she pulled a newspaper out of her bag and placed it neatly on the table in front of them. As the Doctor leaned forward, he recognized his own face on the front page and that of Clara. They had been spotted at the little supermarket where they had stopped to stock up on groceries before heading to Scotland. He started reading the article.

**Is love in the air?**

_Clara Oswald has been spotted on a domestic shopping trip with ageing rock star the Doctor during what looked like a holiday in Scotland. The pair is currently working on their first joint album and rumours have been flying ever since the announcement has been made. The odd combination of singers has baffled many fans, but it looks like we finally have an explanation for the collaboration. The pair seems intimate on more than just a musical level._

“This is tabloid bullshit!” the Doctor spat and shoved the newspaper back in Missy's direction before he had even finished reading the article. Yet to his surprise, Clara reached for the paper and started reading as well. “Who wrote this?”

Missy shrugged, but there was a smug smile on her face and the Doctor dreaded to think what was going on in her head. “I don't know. Maybe someone who knows you very well?”

The Doctor only glowered at her in response.

“Shit,” Clara suddenly uttered next to him and pushed the newspaper aside. “What now?”

“Okay,” Amy said and leaned forward, “Missy and I had an idea, but the decision is yours. I mean it, if you don't like it, you won't have to do it.”

“What Amy is trying to say is that we want you to go with it,” Missy deadpanned.

“Missy, we agreed that they wouldn't have to,” Amy reminded her.

“Nonsense,” his manager replied with a waving gesture. “This is amazing publicity! Many of the newspapers have already latched onto the photos even though they don't have any kind of proof and despite the age difference, they're all totally on board. If you publicly state that you're a couple, they'll be all over you and your album! You couldn't ask for any better publicity than this.”

“Isn't my name publicity enough?” Clara wanted to know. “I mean, my last albums sold well.”

“They sold more than well,” Amy reminded her.

“Yes, but you didn't record them with a nobody like the Doctor. Sorry,” Missy replied and nodded in the Doctor's direction. “The radio interview you did was, well, a disaster. People are massively confused as to why you're working together and-”

“And who's fault is that?” the Doctor growled.

Missy seemed to ignore him. “If you say you're in love, people will get it and they will buy it because a love story sells better than a name.”

“But the decision is entirely up to you,” Amy said after a while, her voice calm and gentle. When the Doctor looked up, she had her eyes set on Clara. “I know you didn't always get along well and that this might be strange for you. I mean, we wouldn't ask you to kiss in front of a camera or anything. Just a bit of handholding and telling journalists that you're dating. That's all.”

It was then that the Doctor realized that Amy wasn't buying it. She had probably read all of the articles and seen the photos and still, she didn't believe they were actually dating. Well, they weren't _dating_ , but there was definitely _something_ between them and the press had figured it out before everyone else. Would the Doctor want that to be public? He wasn't entirely sure, but at least it meant that they wouldn't have to be careful, they wouldn't have to hide. Maybe it would help them determine what exactly they felt for each other without having to fear that they might get caught. Even if someone spotted them kissing in public, it wouldn't be a big deal at all.

The Doctor almost smiled at the thought of it being out in the open. He could take Clara to dinner or the cinema and they could just be themselves. Even though he hated the way Missy was smirking at them, the Doctor wanted to agree.

“Clara,” he asked softly and when she turned her head to look at him, there was something hesitant about her expression, “what do you say?”

She merely shrugged. “I don't know,” Clara admitted.

The Doctor cracked a smile, but he knew he couldn't tell Clara about his real reasons in front of Missy and Amy. No, that is a conversation each of them should have with their own manager. “Well, I wouldn't mind. I mean, if it helps the album, why not? It won't hurt us to say that we're dating.”

“Clara,” Amy said and the Doctor watched the redhead reach for Clara's hand. “The decision is yours and I know you don't want your private life to be public, but look at it this way: it's not actually your private life, is it? I mean, technically, you're lying to the press to get them to write about your album.”

Clara uttered a sigh next to him and the Doctor suddenly regretted agreeing to it before she had. Maybe she didn't want them to be public at all. Maybe he had been wrong in his assumption and Clara still felt nothing for him. If only he knew what was going on in her head, maybe then he would be able to make the right decision. This way, the Doctor was only groping in the dark.

“Fine,” Clara spat eventually and tore her hand out of Amy's grasp. “Let's lie to press, let's pretend for the album's sake.”

“Are you sure?” her manager wanted to know, raising her eyebrows at Clara.

“Yes, she's sure,” Missy confirmed before Clara could. “She knows what's best for the album, so she's gonna hold the Doctor's hand in public and tell every journalist about how happy they are together.”

The Doctor glanced at Clara, but found that she wasn't meeting his gaze. She wouldn't dare to say no in front of Missy now, but he vowed to talk to her about it once again at a later point to make sure that it was really what she wanted. The last thing the Doctor wanted was to put her under pressure after everything she had been through. He had to make sure she was okay and that was more important than selling their silly album.

“Okay, now that we've got that covered: how's the album going?” his manager wanted to know.

“Uhm,” the Doctor paused and cleared his throat, “well, we finished writing the songs.”

“Great,” Missy replied and leaned back in her seat with a pleased expression on her face. “I'll call the studio and schedule your remaining recording sessions.”

When the Doctor glanced at Clara once again, their eyes met for a brief moment and he noticed that she didn't look nearly as happy as their managers, not nearly as happy as she had looked in Scotland. He would talk to her again as soon as possible. He would make sure that she was happy again whatever it might take.


	41. Chapter 41

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the comments, guys :) Oh dear, what will the Doctor and Clara do now that their secret is "out"?

The Doctor dropped his luggage on the corridor floor with a sigh before he straightened his back again. He wished that they could have just stayed in Scotland for a while longer, just a few more days, but as it was, duty had called them back. Maybe it was for the best, maybe it would all turn out well and the Doctor's heart felt a little lighter when he thought about the fact that from now on, he wouldn't have to hide his growing feelings for Clara even in public. To be with her was all he truly wanted.

“Well, thanks for the lift,” he said as he turned around to face Missy, but when the Doctor's gaze fell on his manager, he found her leaning against the closed door, arms crossed in front of her chest and a smug smile on her face. Something was up, the Doctor could tell. “What?”

Missy shrugged softly. “I don't know. You tell me.”

In response, the Doctor scoffed. “I have no idea what you're talking about.”

“Really?” His manager raised her eyebrows. “What about Clara?”

A frown appeared on the Doctor's face and the longer he looked at Missy, the worse the feeling in the pit of his stomach grew. Something told him he wasn't going to like this conversation.

“What about her?”

“Uhm, I don't know, maybe the fact that you're head over heels in love with that girl?” Missy enquired curiously.

“Right, this is ridiculous,” the Doctor snorted in response and spun around on his heels. He grabbed his suitcase and walked into the living room where the impromptu Christmas tree was still standing in all its absurd glory.

Even though the memory of decorating it with Clara should have made him happy, the Doctor now only felt regret over having behaved like a complete arsehole on Christmas Eve. He should have seen earlier how much Clara was struggling, he should have known about Danny. But it was just like he had said to her: the only thing he could do was to vow to do better next time. And he would.

“Wow, that's almost a piece of art,” Missy remarked as she spotted the tree. “Modern art. You know, the kind that makes you question the artist's sanity.”

“Why are you still here?” the Doctor wanted to know, hoping that he had expressed his annoyance well enough for her to understand.

“I want you to admit that the press isn't lying and that the two of you have something going on.”

The Doctor rolled his eyes.

“You can't fool me, Doctor. I've known you for most of your life, I know you took her to the cabin and that can only mean one thing and that's-”

“That she is having a rough time, that's all,” he spat. “She needed some time off, away from it all.”

“Oh, come on,” Missy groaned, “Don't tell me you took her on a platonic holiday to the cabin you've sworn to never return to unless it was with a woman you loved. You may be many things, Doctor, but you're a terrible liar. I know that deep down in your heart you're a hopeless romantic.”

Knowing that he was defeated, the Doctor plopped down into a chair with a heavy sigh.

“So what if there is something between us? I don't think that's anything of your concern.”

“You're right, it's not,” she agreed as she took a seat across from him. “But as your friend and manager, I can't help being curious. How long has this been going on?”

The Doctor hesitated. “Uhm, a. . . while.”

“Was that before or after her boyfriend got himself killed?”

“Missy!”

“What?” she asked. “He did and you're avoiding the question which means that you started screwing her before he died.”

He inhaled deeply, trying hard to come up with a fitting comeback, but he couldn't think of anything. The Doctor knew well enough that what they had done to Danny was wrong, but that was in the past now and regrets wouldn't change it or bring him back to life. And he couldn't bring himself to regret a single moment he had spent with Clara.

Missy sighed audibly. “Alright, can I tell you something _as your friend_?”

The Doctor raised his eyebrows at her. “I have a feeling you're going to anyway.”

“That girl lost her boyfriend, so she's anything but emotionally stable at the moment. Be careful,” Missy reminded him, her voice surprisingly kind.

“I'm not gonna hurt her,” the Doctor argued instantly, slightly hurt by Missy's insinuation. “I care about Clara. I'm in love with her.”

The words had come out of his mouth before he had even had a chance of stopping them and only as he said them out loud did he realize just how true they were. He loved her, he had loved her for a while.

“I wasn't talking about Clara,” his manager replied sternly. “I was talking about you. Don't get hurt.”

Before the Doctor could say anything else, Missy rose from her seat and headed towards the door while he pondered her words. He wasn't going to get hurt. Clara wouldn't hurt him. No, they would be okay. Eventually.

* * *

When Clara closed the door of her flat behind her, she suddenly felt like crying. Yesterday, when she had woken up, the entire world had seemed perfect and now her happiness had collapsed around her once again. If only they could have stayed in Scotland where everything had been so easy. Just her and her Doctor, hiding, running away from it all. But now that the press had found out about them, there was no hiding any longer and deep down, Clara knew that it would be no use denying anything. Instead of reporting facts, the tabloids would publish rumours about them and that was even worse than the truth. It was at moments like this that Clara wished she could just vanish and become a nobody again. Life had certainly been easier that way.

When her phone rang in her pocket, Clara pulled it out to see who had sent her a message and when she spotted the Doctor's name on her screen, her heart lit up for just a second. Strange as it was, he really was the only source of light and comfort in her life right now, the only person who could make her forget how much she hated the rest.

**The Doctor**  
_You seemed a bit off earlier. Are you sure you're okay with us going public?_

Clara inhaled deeply before she typed her reply.

**Clara**  
_Yes, it's fine. And it's not like the press would let it go either way. Better they write what we tell them than rumours._

**The Doctor**  
_True. And look at the bright side. I can now take you to dinner or to see a movie and we won't have to worry about them finding out._

Clara smiled at the idea of the Doctor taking her out for a meal and she guessed that in some ways, he was right. They could just be themselves in public from now on, but still, the idea of everyone reading about her private life bugged her. Maybe she would just have to get used to it.

**The Doctor**  
_Do you have plans for tonight? I have to admit, I kinda miss you._

The smile didn't fade from her face when she read his latest message and if she was completely honest, she wanted nothing more than to have a quiet evening with just him right now. That way she could at least pretend they were still in Scotland.

**Clara**  
_Your place or mine?_

**The Doctor**  
_Yours has the more comfortable sofa. I'll be there in an hour. What do you want for dinner?_

**Clara**  
_Pizza will do just fine._

**The Doctor**  
_I'll be there in an hour with pizza._

Clara giggled when she placed the phone aside. Maybe she had been wrong. Maybe the press finding out wasn't the end of her happiness after all.


	42. Chapter 42

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the lovely comments :) You think all is well? But is it really?

“Can you believe it's been a year?”

The Doctor only vaguely heard what Clara said to him as he followed her into her flat, his hands full with Chinese take-out boxes and his mind already on the food. They had been recording all day and he couldn't wait to finally put his feet up.

“What has been a year?” he asked absent-mindedly as he set the boxes down on the kitchen table. Now he could finally focus on her.

Clara spun around on the spot and smiled at him. “It's been a year since we signed the contract,” she told him.

The Doctor frowned at her in response. “Really?” he asked in surprise. “And we haven't strangled each other yet?”

“Oh, believe me, I wanted to on many occasions,” she giggled.

“So did I.”

Then the laughter slowly faded from her lips. The smile, however, remained as she looked at him and suddenly, John was beginning to feel a little nervous. What was she up to now? He could never really tell with Clara, but that was part of the reason why he loved her.

“What changed?” Clara wanted to know.

The Doctor cocked an eyebrow at her. “Who says I don't still want to strangle you?”

“Shut up,” she said with a chuckle and crossed the distance between them before she wrapped her arms around his waist, went up on her toes and pecked him on the lips. When they parted, she was frowning at him. “You don't really wanna strangle me, do you?”

He laughed in response and pulled her a little closer, wrapping his arms around her back in the process. Then the Doctor raised his hand and stroked a loose strand of hair out of her face. “It's been a crazy year,” he said thoughtfully.

“Crazy, horrible,” Clara paused, “then less horrible.”

“You know who's going to be horrible?”

Clara raised her eyebrows at him.

“Me if I don't get to eat soon,” the Doctor growled playfully.

She laughed at him in response and finally released him from her embrace. “You get the forks, I'll get the beer. We have something to celebrate after all.”

“What? A year of not strangling each other?”

Clara was still laughing when she approached the fridge. “You know exactly what I mean.”

With a sigh, the Doctor opened a drawer to retrieve two forks and he realized that by now he knew Clara's place as well as he knew his own. For the past two months, he had practically lived here and even though he knew that his relationship with Clara was probably not going to be affected by it, the work on their album coming to an end was not something he wanted to celebrate. Today they had recorded the very last song and somehow, it made him a little sad. The Doctor had enjoyed working with Clara too much, every aspect of it. How they kept pushing each other to give their best, their soft, flirtatious bickering, all of it. He didn't really want it to end at all.

 

A few minutes later they both settled on the sofa, the telly running in the background at a low volume, their boxes of Chinese take-out food set up on the coffee table before them and finally, the Doctor decided to focus on something more pleasant than his own melancholic thoughts as he began to stuff the food into his mouth.

“I've received an invitation for Saturday,” Clara said after a while.

“An invitation for what?” he asked, his mouth still full.

“Label party,” she replied. “They've started to wonder where I've been these past few months.”

“Well,” the Doctor said and blew the air out between his lips as he leaned back and placed his arm on Clara's shoulder, “you've been doing as you were told. Staying away from parties, relaxing properly, finding more healthy ways to spend your time.”

“Oh?” Clara chuckled. “With what? Eating fast food?”

“Eating fast food, followed by some. . . uhm. . . exercise.”

Still laughing softly, Clara leaned her head against his shoulder. “They asked about you as well. Invited you, too,” she told him. “I said we needed some time to ourselves which wasn't technically a lie. I'm not sure I'm ready to attend an event together. I know that all we need to do is act normally, but I hate the idea of everyone knowing about us.”

“You don't have to be ashamed of me. I _can_ behave in public if I want to,” the Doctor replied jokingly.

“It's not that,” she argued with a heavy sigh. “It's just the idea of not having a private life at all that bothers me. The fact that everyone just has to open a newspaper to know what we get up to in private. It bugs me, always has. That's why I never allowed Danny to go public either, but he was an ordinary teacher, he didn't get it, he had no idea what it's like.”

“Well, we don't have to go to the label party. In fact, I'd prefer it if we didn't,” he said sincerely. “You know how much I hate these events.”

Clara chuckled in response and then wrapped her arms around his chest. “That's exactly what I wanted to hear.”

The Doctor craned his neck and left a soft kiss on Clara's forehead. Even if she had asked him to go with her, he probably would have agreed. There was nothing he wouldn't do to make her happy and the Doctor found himself wondering if she was. She laughed and smiled more often, but sometimes, when she thought no one was watching, the Doctor caught her looking sad and thoughtful. Some days he really couldn't quite tell if she was happy or not.

“You'll see,” the Doctor said in a reassuring tone, “everyone knowing about us isn't as bad as you think. True, they'll be curious at first, but once the album is out, I'm sure their interest is gonna die down cause another celebrity couple just got engaged or a royal marriage has been announced and then we'll be a footnote somewhere under the weather forecast.”

“Are you sure?” Clara asked sheepishly.

“Yes,” he confirmed with a chuckle, “cause we've already vanished from the front page weeks ago. Trust me, once the whole album thing is over, they'll go back to ignoring us. Well, me especially because I'm boring and it's beginning to rub off on you.”

Clara uttered a soft laugh in response. “Who said that it's beginning to rub off?”

“I do cause you blew off the label party in favour of watching a movie with me.”

“Point made.”

“Clara?” the Doctor asked carefully. He just felt like it was the right moment to ask.

“Mh?” she uttered in response and craned her neck to look at him. Now that he was staring right into her dark eyes, the courage almost left him because he would know if she was lying.

“Are you happy?”

The tiniest frown spread across her face. “Why are you asking?”

“Because I want to know,” he replied.

“Well,” she paused and then quickly averted her eyes while she tightened her arms around his chest. “I will be as soon as we get this album over with and go back to Scotland where no one will find us.”

The Doctor wanted to open his mouth and say something in reply because he didn't actually believe that running away would make her happy forever. No, something had to change, but the Doctor couldn't say what that should be. Sooner or later, they would have to come up with a solution or else he might lose her and that was the last thing he ever wanted to do.


	43. Chapter 43

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the comments! And didn't I tell you there was gonna be trouble?

“Is it really necessary for us to wear so much makeup?” the Doctor asked grumpily in the photographer's direction. “When Clara stepped out of the changing room, I almost didn't recognize her.”

Clara chuckled in response, already knowing from their last photoshoot that he hated the idea of wearing makeup even though the stylist had already been gentle with him. And she really loved what they had done to his hair.

“Stop complaining, Doctor,” she replied softly. “We're gonna look great. Well, _I'm_ gonna look great, you'll just look grumpy.”

“It's my trademark look!” he argued.

“Okay, guys, can you stand behind each other? Doctor, please put your hand on the wall and look straight into the camera,” the photographer instructed them and they both took their positions dutifully.

“You're glowering,” Clara remarked because she knew it was true. She didn't even have to look at him right now

“And you,” the Doctor replied and shortly after, Clara felt him kiss her cheek from behind. She was about to protest this public display of emotions when he continued. “Look beautiful. Well, at least you would if they hadn't disfigured you with all that unnecessary paint on your face.”

“Can we focus on the photoshoot now?”

“That would be greatly appreciated,” the photographer replied and once they both looked in his direction, Clara saw the softboxes light up as he took a photo.

They continued this pose with minor variations and Clara was already beginning to think that it was going well, but she should have known that the Doctor wouldn't be able to shut up even for a few minutes.

“I don't know why your manager had to book us with this photographer again,” he complained in a low voice. “There are so many great ones out there in London. In fact, I personally know some.”

“And I suppose they're all very modern and edgy.”

“Would be less awkward than this, that's for sure.”

“Well, Amy booked this one and Missy didn't protest, so here we are,” Clara said and turned around to look at him. She granted him a smile because she knew how much the Doctor hated it to pose in front of a camera. “Can you be brave for half an hour?”

In response, the Doctor cocked his eyebrow just a little. “What's in it for me?”

“Excuse me, can we focus here for a moment longer?” the photographer interrupted them, but still, Clara remained smiling at the Doctor.

“You get to pick the food and the movie for tonight,” Clara promised. “And I might throw in a little extra.”

The Doctor gave a soft shrug. “That sounds like a fair deal.”

 

They turned their attention back towards the photographer, who told the Doctor to take his guitar and sit on a speaker while Clara stood over him, watching him intently. After that, she was told to lean against him and then to sit on the floor by his side. When the photographer finally announced the end of the photoshoot, Clara could hear the Doctor sigh in relief.

“You know, I've had an idea,” the Doctor said when they rose to their feet.

Clara chuckled. “You picked food and a movie already?”

“No, not about that,” he replied. “I was thinking that maybe we could invite both Amy and Missy over for dinner sometime. Sort of as a way of saying thank you. I mean, they made the album happen and without them, we would have never met.”

Clara suddenly stopped dead in her tracks and she felt her stomach twitch at the idea of the conversation that was ahead of her. She should have told him months ago. No, she should have told Amy months ago. But she hadn't. Damn, how was she going to get out of this one?

“Doctor, uhm,” she paused, racking her brain for a decent excuse. But there was no excuse, was there? No, it was just down to her being a horrible person once again even though she had vowed to do better this time. “I don't think that's necessary. They'll both get a ton of money out of this. No need to cook them dinner, too.”

When the Doctor's hand came to rest on her arm, Clara knew that he had figured her out even before she turned around to look at him. When she did, his face had turned into a frown.

“You haven't told Amy about us, have you?” he asked. “She still thinks it's all a show.”

Clara opened her mouth to reply, but the Doctor instantly cut her off. He also let go of her arm.

“Clara, why would you lie to your best friend about this?” the Doctor demanded to know. “I get that you didn't want the public to know, but Amy?”

“It just never came up,” she tried to defend herself.

“It's been months!”

“No, it's been over a year and Amy would know that!” Clara spat at him in reply.

The Doctor fell silent in an instant and Clara knew that she had hit a nerve for both of them. They had both cheated on Danny, a perfectly nice guy who was now dead and the Doctor disliked the idea almost as much as she did. But it was the truth.

He exhaled audibly. “I know, but don't you think that as your best friend, Amy would somehow still find a way to love you?”

“That doesn't change the fact that I'm not exactly proud to admit it,” Clara said quietly and lowered her gaze. “As soon as I tell Amy the truth about us, she will start asking about the details and she will know that it has been going on for longer than just a few months. I'm just not very eager to tell my best friend what a horrible person I really am.”

Suddenly, the Doctor reached for her chin and gently lifted her head to look at him. Clara was surprised to find him smiling. “I've seen you at your worst and I'm still here. And if your best friend can't handle that, she doesn't deserve your friendship.”

Clara cracked a weak smile. “Can I talk to her after the big promotional concert in three weeks?”

“Of course.”

“Just in case she really can't handle it. I don't wanna lose my manager before the concert,” she joked.

The Doctor chuckled softly. “You could always switch to Missy,” he suggested as he started to make his way back to the changing rooms.

“Yeah, that's unlikely,” Clara remarked and followed him out of the studio.

 

When they had changed back into their everyday clothes, the Doctor and Clara stepped outside the studio and to her horror, Clara already spotted a small crowd waiting in front of it. She rolled her eyes at the thought of having to take selfies and give autographs and stared longingly at the car behind the crowd that would take them straight home. Ah well, a few minutes with her fans wouldn't kill her. She would just have to grit her teeth and do it.

However, when Clara turned her attention towards the crowd, she frowned at the sight in front of her. The Doctor was already right in the middle of it, taking selfies, laughing, signing whatever they handed him and to her dismay, Clara realized that he was better at it than she had ever been. He talked to the fans, interacted with them, asked them questions – he was _enjoying_ their attention.

“Excuse me, could I take a selfie with the two of you together?” Clara suddenly heard one of the fans say and when she looked up, she spotted the Doctor who seemed to wait for her confirmation.

“Uhm, sure,” she replied hesitantly and positioned herself next to the fan. The Doctor took the other side and Clara glimpsed at his face on the phone and noticed the broad smile on his face. Somehow, it made her feel strange. Then the camera on the fan's phone clicked.

“Thank you so much!”

Before Clara knew what was happening, the Doctor was already signing another old LP cover and she couldn't be quite sure, but Clara thought that what she felt was something close to jealousy. She wasn't jealous of the fans that were taking up his attention, no, not at all. She was jealous of the Doctor because he seemed to be so much better at it than she was without even trying and Clara also knew none of this would have ever happened without their album. The credit for the Doctor's newfound fame belonged entirely to her.


	44. Chapter 44

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so, so, so, so insanely much for the sweet, long, slightly angry-at-Clara comments! So, there's obviously a storm brewing between the two of them. Can it end well?

The Doctor had played more gigs than he could count in his life as a struggling rockstar, but as he stepped out on the stage and saw just how many people had gathered to watch them perform, he instantly knew that this was something else entirely and to his own surprise, it made him feel a little bit nervous. He had dreamed about this moment for 50 years and at this point in his life, he hadn't exactly expected it to come true. But thanks to Clara, it had. Well, technically the Doctor knew he should be thanking Missy, because her silly idea had brought him financial stability and what was even more important, love. The Doctor couldn't think of anyone he would rather share this moment with than Clara.

The fans screamed when Clara appeared on stage and the Doctor bowed to her in a grand gesture. She chuckled at that and then the music started to play. There was something invigorating about performing in front of so many people, about performing together with Clara and it almost made the Doctor regret that this would likely be the only concert of this kind for at least a while. He just loved it, he loved being on stage with her and he loved the glimpses he got at the audience. That was all the Doctor had ever wanted: to make people happy with his music. Seeing and hearing how much the audience was enjoying the concert made him think that it had definitely been worth the long wait.

The Doctor felt exhausted when he finally left the stage after two hours of playing song after song, but at the same time, he was too exhilarated to sit down even after the door to the backstage area closed behind them. However, when he turned around to look at Clara, a broad smile on his face, the Doctor was surprised to find a completely different sentiment in her expression.

“Are you okay?” he wanted to know immediately.

“Uhm, sure,” she replied as she sank down in one of the chairs. “Just exhausted.”

“Oh, uh-” the Doctor broke off, not quite sure what to say. He had enjoyed the concert a lot and he wanted to talk about it, wanted to tell her how awesome they had been together, but he felt like any attempt would not be appreciated right now. Then a knock on the door interrupted them and Missy stuck her head through the door.

“There are some fans waiting in front of the backstage area,” his manager explained. “Do you wanna go and say hi or do you want me to tell them to get lost?”

The Doctor glanced briefly at Clara, but he knew better than to ask her to go out with him now. She deserved her rest after this concert.

“I'll go out and say hi,” he determined.

As he crossed the room, he stopped next to Clara and bent down to leave a soft kiss on her head. 

“You were amazing tonight,” the Doctor whispered before he left the room. For some reason, the fact that Clara didn't respond left him with a strange feeling.

 

His thoughts were still circling around her when he went outside to greet some of the waiting fans who were visibly disappointed that Clara hadn't come out with him. The Doctor smiled and told them that she needed to rest, which was probably all there was to it, he signed their autographs and took a couple of selfies and took a moment to just chat with some of them. Maybe it was better that Clara had stayed backstage because she hated this kind of attention. The Doctor, however, loved it. It wasn't so much the personal attention as the fact that he was talking to the people who loved his music, it was the feedback, it was knowing that what he did was worth something to at least some of the fans. Once the Doctor had made sure that he had signed everyone's CD cover, he went back into the backstage area, only to find Clara still sitting in the exact same spot.

“Clara?” the Doctor asked carefully as he stepped closer. “Are you sure you're okay?”

Slowly, she raised her head and when she did, the Doctor could see that there were hints of tears in her eyes. “You're loving this,” she stated plainly.

For a moment, the Doctor had no idea what to say.

“The fame, the fans, the concert – you're loving all of it.”

“The concert was amazing,” he agreed, his voice careful. What was going on with Clara? Why was she acting like this? “ _You_ were amazing. As for the fans, most of them are really nice. If you tried talking to them, you'd see.”

“I don't wanna talk to them!” Clara argued loudly. “I just want to be left in peace! That's all I've ever wanted!”

The Doctor opened his mouth to reply, but she cut him off before he had a chance.

“I've never wanted to be on stage, I've never liked performing in front of people, I've never wanted the attention or the media coverage or anything! I just wanted to do something I was good at and that was music,” she admitted.

“Clara-”

“But you're loving it,” Clara said and her voice sounded surprisingly sharp while her gaze bored into him. “You're actually loving all of it.”

“Yes?” he replied carefully, his answer more of a question than anything else. He had no idea where this conversation was headed. What was she up to? Where was she going with this?

“I've been thinking,” she said, her forehead lining in a frown. “Your fame only really kicked off after Scotland. No one was interested in you, no one had ever heard from you. And then we announced to the newspapers that we were dating and suddenly, everything changed. That's right, isn't it? That was when they suddenly became interested in you.”

The Doctor got a terrible, terrible feeling and he prayed that he was wrong. No, Clara wouldn't think that. Clara knew the truth. “I'm not sure when it started,” he replied.

Suddenly, Clara rose from her chair and took a step towards him. “When you convinced me to go public with our relationship, did you know that this was going to happen? Did you _hope_ it would happen?”

“Clara, all I wanted was not to have to hide any longer!” the Doctor argued defensively. “I just wanted us to be together!”

“ _Did you?!_ ” Clara's voice cut through the air and the sharpness of it made the Doctor twitch. “You knew I didn't want to go public and yet you made me!”

“The truth was already out!”

“I can't help but think whether you had an ulterior motive,” she spat and crossed her arms in front of her chest.

The Doctor's mouth fell open. Was this a test? Was this one of her strange moods? Or did she actually believe that he would trick her like that?

“You can't be serious,” he replied in disbelief.

Clara sniffed and when he looked at her, the Doctor saw that tears were now running down her cheek. She actually believed that he was capable of tricking her, of playing with her feelings.

“You knew I was vulnerable after Danny! You knew that and you used me to further your career!”

“How can you even say that to me when you know I've suffered the exact same loss?!” the Doctor barked at her.

“I just don't know what to believe anymore,” she replied and in a swift movement, Clara turned around and reached for her purse and jacket that she had already draped over the chair.

When she made her way towards the door, the Doctor suddenly realized what was happening and made an attempt to stop her.  
“Clara!” he called out and held the door shut when she tried to leave. “Please, you have to believe me.”

She raised her head and glowered at him and for the longest moment, the Doctor wasn't sure what was going to happen next. But he couldn't just let her leave. Not like this. Whatever had gotten into her, he needed to convince her that she was wrong.

“I'm sorry,” she almost whispered. “I just don't know what to believe right now.”

When Clara managed to tear the door open, the flash of a camera momentarily blinded him and he could only hear Clara as she made her way past the journalist and out of the room.

“Do you have any comments on your fight with Clara Oswald?” the journalist asked and held a device in his face that the Doctor presumed was going to record his voice.

“Yes,” he growled. “Fuck off and mind your own business!”

Then he slammed the door shut. For a moment, he considered going after Clara, but the Doctor knew that he wouldn't have any chance at success tonight. She was angry and she was confused and she wouldn't listen to any of his arguments. In her insecurity, Clara had made all the wrong assumptions.


	45. Chapter 45

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the long comments (and the short ones) :D Both are very much appreciated. Well, I did promise angst, so it would be mean if I didn't deliver angst. . .

When Clara stormed out of the room, she had no idea where to go. All she knew was that she needed to get away – from the Doctor, from the lurking journalists, from everything. She needed to clear her head and think about what had happened. Clara couldn't even say where the accusation had come from, what had made her say it out loud, but the truth was that it had been on her mind for a while now. It was all too convenient for him, wasn't it? And they had started out hating each other. How could Clara expect that sentiment to just go away? No, everything had been a little too perfect between them of late. Something had to be wrong.

As she made her way out of the building, Clara was so lost in thought that she didn't even notice her best friend until she bumped straight into her.

“Oh, I'm sorry,” she mumbled quickly after she had collided with Amy.

“It's fine, I was-” Amy broke off and even though Clara quickly tried to wipe away her tears, her friend had noticed them already. It was too late to pretend that she was fine. “Are you alright?”

In defeat, Clara shook her head.

Her best friend granted her a soft smile before she laid her arm around Clara's shoulder. “My car is waiting for me in front of the door. Why don't we go to my place and have a little chat over the biggest cup of tea I can find?” she suggested.

“That sounds nice,” Clara admitted.

 

They didn't speak much during the car ride home and Clara was incredibly grateful for that. She just needed a few moments to gather her thoughts, think about everything that had happened. The fight with the Doctor had been anything but planned and the more time passed, the lousier she felt about it. She had overreacted, hadn't she? The Doctor hadn't used her to further his career and Clara knew it, but everything about them just seemed so messed up that sometimes Clara really didn't know what to think. She loved him, but did he feel the same about her? Or did he feel sorry because she had lost her boyfriend? Did he feel sorry because she herself was lost? Wasn't there even a tiny part of him that had hoped her fame would rub off once they were an official couple? Clara couldn't say.

Once they stepped inside Amy's house, Clara sank down on the sofa, reached for the nearest blanket to cover herself with and waited until Amy's husband had brought them both a cup of tea.

“Okay, why don't you tell me what has been upsetting you?” Amy asked kindly.

Clara took a sip from her mug. Amy hadn't lied. It really was a big mug and the hot beverage was very much appreciated right now.

“The Doctor,” she admitted. “We got into a fight after the concert. Well, I kind of started it.”

“What was it about?”

With a sigh, Clara set down her mug and looked up at her friend for a long moment, wondering how on earth to start. She had known that this moment would come at some point, but she hadn't actually thought about how she was going to confess it to her friend.

“Before I tell you, you must promise me not to judge,” she said. “I mean, you're most likely going to judge me, but can you wait until after I'm gone?”

“Uhm, sure,” Amy replied hesitantly, a small frown on her forehead as she spoke. “Why? What could possibly be so bad?”

Clara inhaled deeply before she replied. “The Doctor and I. . . we're. . . the relationship isn't fake.”

Her friend's eyes widened in an instant. “Are you saying that you and the Doctor are actually an item? The two of you? For real?”

Slowly, Clara nodded.

“For how long?” Amy wanted to know.

“Uhm,” Clara hesitated, “I'm not exactly sure.”

“How about vaguely?”

She lowered her head and when she answered, Clara only mumbled the words in response.

“Excuse me, did you just say _a year_?”

“I know that what we did was wrong and I have no excuse for it other than being a horrible person who never even deserved a boyfriend like Danny.”

“Okay,” Amy said determinedly, “let's put aside the fact that you cheated on your boyfriend before he died and let's put aside the fact that you kept insisting that you and the Doctor hate each other – what did you fight about?”

Clara sighed. “I accused him of using me to further his career. I know it's probably stupid because the Doctor has been nothing but lovely since New Year's Eve and I know that he cares about me in some way, but tonight I just. . . he loves the attention, he loves all of the things that I hate and I don't get it. Tonight, I just snapped and. . . I don't know. I'm still a horrible person. When I have a good thing, I just do everything I can to ruin it.”

Suddenly, Clara could feel Amy's hand on her shoulder and when she looked up, she found her friend smiling at her.

“Do you love him?” Amy wanted to know.

Clara nodded. “More than I've loved anyone else,” she admitted. “Why can't I just show it? Why can't I just be happy?”

Her friend scoffed softly. “Because you have a tendency to self-destruction,” she replied. “But seriously, if you care about him, you need to apologize and you need to tell him what he means to you. You waited too long to tell Danny. Don't make that mistake again.”

Again, she nodded.

“Call him tomorrow,” Amy said. “Tonight, you can sleep in the guest bedroom.”

“Thank you,” Clara replied sincerely. “You really are the best friend one could hope for.”

“Uh-huh, but just so you know, I'm internally judging you about the cheating anyway.”

She cracked a smile in response, knowing that the degree to which Amy was judging her was probably still milder than what she actually deserved.

* * *

When Clara woke up the next morning, she felt reassured and utterly bad about the way she had treated the Doctor. She had been so stupid to think that he would use her like that after everything he had done for her. Determined to phone him to apologise right after breakfast, Clara got out of bed and made her way into the kitchen with a broad smile on her face.

“You were right,” she announced towards her friend who was already sipping her morning coffee. “I need to tell the Doctor how I feel and I'm going to do exactly that. Today.”

Yet to her surprise, Amy didn't smile back. Instead, she gestured towards the chair. “You might wanna hold off on that for a moment longer.”

“Why?” Clara wanted to know as she sat down at the kitchen table. “What's wrong? You were the one who said I shouldn't wait if I remember correctly.”

In response, Amy slid a newspaper in her direction and Clara assumed that it would be a concert report or something like that, but when she head the headline, she felt her heart sink into her boots.

“I'm so sorry, Clara.”

**Black Widow or just unlucky in love?**

_It's hard to tell what exactly Clara Oswald is, but after speaking to her current boyfriend, the Doctor, we can confirm that she is definitely not the woman of our dreams. Her relationship with the Doctor has been rocky from the start, with the two of them openly admitting in a radio interview that they hate each other, but what is even more interesting is her previous relationship that had a fatal end for Maths teacher Danny Pink._

Clara couldn't read on. She didn't even want to know what else the Doctor had told them about her as the horrible realisation was beginning to settle. She had been right about him. Every single one of her doubts, they had all been true. The Doctor had used her and now, he had committed the ultimate betrayal. He had sold her worst secrets to the press. Clara scoffed when she thought about how only a moment ago, she had still considered herself to be in love with him. That feeling had now been replaced by something else entirely: anger.

“Clara?” Amy asked carefully.

“I'm fine,” she replied, but with her broken voice, she didn't even convince herself.

“It's okay if you're not,” her friend reminded her. “This is nasty.”

Angrily, Clara pushed the newspaper back in Amy's direction. “I know full well what it is!” she spat. “And the Doctor can rot in hell for all I care.”

“Clara-”

“Thank God the album is over because I don't want to see his face ever again!” Clara shouted as she rose from her seat. She spun around on her heels and made her way into the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind her.

Once she was alone, Clara was finally able to cry. She hated him. Yes, right now she hated the Doctor will all her heart, but she hated herself just as much. Clara had seen through him right from the start and still, in her grief and insecurity, she had allowed him to use her. In the end, she had no one to blame for this disaster but herself.


	46. Chapter 46

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the comments, guys! I know I'm putting you through angst hell here, but let's see what happens when the Doctor sees the article. . .

The Doctor had vowed to give her time, but after seeing that ludicrous article, he just couldn't waste another minute. _After speaking to her current boyfriend._ The Doctor scoffed, knowing that they probably meant that incident where he had told the journalist to fuck off and mind his own business before slamming the door in his face. When Clara didn't answer his phone calls, the Doctor was fairly certain that she believed the article and she believed that he had sold her out. He needed to talk to her and set things straight.  
However, that was proving to be a little more difficult than he had imagined because he would have to find her first.

Clara wasn't at her flat and when he called Amy, he only received a rather rude reply which confirmed his earlier suspicion: Clara believed that he had sold her secrets to the press and she believed that he had been with her only to improve his own career – both of which couldn't be further from the truth. Yes, he was enjoying the fan attention, but if he had to choose between being famous alone or being a nobody with Clara, he wouldn't hesitate for a second before choosing Clara. But how could the Doctor convince her of that when he couldn't even find her?

When by nightfall Clara still hadn't returned to her flat, the Doctor grew tired of waiting in front of her doorstep and he also grew a little worried. If she wasn't home and she wasn't with Amy, if she was angry and disappointed in him, there was one place the Doctor thought she might go.

 

Finding that pub again wasn't as easy as he had hoped, but after a few hours of driving around in the back of an Uber, he finally spotted the place. The doorman in front of the building was the same he had encountered that night he had gone here with Clara. After telling his driver to wait, the Doctor got out of the car and approached the tall man. He vaguely remembered the last time they had been here and the fact that the doorman hadn't wanted to let him in. Well, he would just have to try.

“Hi,” the Doctor said in passing as he made his way towards the door. Maybe if he looked like he had been here a hundred times, he would be allowed to enter.

“Hold on,” the man said in response and stopped the Doctor on his way to the door. With a sigh, he turned around and looked at him. “Oh, you're the Doctor.”

The Doctor forced a smile in response. “Yep, the one and only.”

“You can go in, of course,” the doorman told him in a friendly manner. “But I gotta check, right? Can't let the press in here.”

“Of course,” he replied and finally made his way inside.

The pub was dark and smoky like the first time he had been here and the Doctor instantly scanned the room for a familiar face. He wasn't surprised when he found several. Singers, actors, a comedian. The darts board was empty, but when his gaze shifted towards the bar, the Doctor spotted Harry Potter and his expression darkened when he realized that Harry had company.

Clara was laughing at one of his jokes when he approached the bar and the Doctor vowed to put an end to their flirting as quickly as possible.

“Hey Harry, could you give us a moment? I need to talk to Clara.”

They both turned around to look at him and while the actor merely rolled his eyes, Clara started to glower at him.

“How did you get in here?” she spat, slurring her speech just a little.

The Doctor shrugged. “Front door. I'm famous now, remember?”

“You're also an arse,” Clara replied and turned her back on him again.

The Doctor shifted his gaze towards Harry Potter again and the young man obviously realized that he wasn't wanted because a moment later, he grabbed his drink and left them on their own. The Doctor used the opportunity and slid into the empty seat.

“Clara, we need to talk,” he said to her even though she refused to look at him. “I've seen the article, I know what it looks like-”

“You told them,” Clara said sharply and turned her head to glare at him. “You told them about my worst secret. Why would I still wanna talk to you?”

“The only thing I told them was to fuck off!” the Doctor replied defensively.

“Then how did they find out about Danny?!”

“They must have heard the name during our argument. The rest is just research, not rocket science! Clara, please believe me! I never told anyone!”

Still, Clara only glowered at him for a long moment. Then suddenly, something unexpected happened. The Doctor didn't even have time to duck when Clara reached for her purse and started to hit him with it.

“Ow! _Clara!_ ”

“You're an arsehole!”

“Clara! Stop!” the Doctor called out and finally managed to take the purse away from her.

When he looked at her, disarmed and still looking furious, the Doctor suddenly thought there was something extremely funny about her. She was tiny, she was tipsy and the way she continued to glower at him just made him laugh all of a sudden.

“What's so funny?” Clara demanded to know.

The Doctor chuckled. “You're right. I am an arsehole. Which is exactly why we're made for each other.”

In response, she merely knitted her eyebrows at him.

“Clara, I never sold your secrets to the press,” he said, still laughing. “I would never do that because I love you, you silly cow.”

“Did you just call me a silly cow?!” Clara gasped right before she hit him again, this time with her fist.

“Ow, Clara! Did you even hear the rest?!”

Yet instead of replying, Clara suddenly jumped up from her seat and darted off in the direction of the door. For a moment, the Doctor was too baffled to do anything until he realized that he was still holding her purse.

“Clara, wait!” he called after her and broke out into a run as well, but she had already closed the pub door behind her. Damn, how on earth could she be so fast on heels?

He reached the door a few moments later and when he stepped outside, he noticed to his dismay that Clara was no longer alone. Instead, she was in the company of the same journalist who had been lurking in the backstage area after the concert. And he was obviously bothering her.

“Leave me alone!” Clara yelled at him.

“I just have a few questions, that's all!”

“Hey!” the Doctor shouted in his direction and approached him quickly. “I think she's made it pretty clear that she's not in the mood for a conversation!”

“I just have two questions, man, come on,” the journalist argued, “I'll be on my way in no time.”

“Wrong,” the Doctor growled as he came to a halt in front of the young man. “You'll be on your way right now.”

“But-”

The Doctor didn't let him finish. He was done with him. He was done with them all and it seemed as if there was only one language they understood. So the Doctor lunged out and landed his fist right in the journalist's face. The man hit the ground only moments later.

“Doctor!” Clara called out behind him while the journalist slowly scrambled back to his feet.

“You know I'll write about that, right?” he spat as he brushed the dirt off his jacket.

“Oh, please do,” the Doctor said sharply. “It'll be a nice warning for everyone who thinks about bothering Clara.”

The journalist glared at him for a moment longer before he finally turned around and walked away. Only when he was out of earshot did the Doctor sigh in relief.

“Doctor?” Clara asked carefully.

The Doctor turned around and he felt his heart light up when he saw that she was still here. He granted her a smile. Then she opened her mouth.

“Don't say anything,” the Doctor interrupted her. “Let's just go home and talk about it in the morning, okay?”

“I love you, too,” she blurted out before he could stop her. “And I'm scared.”

The Doctor smiled softly in her direction before he approached her and closed his arm around her shoulders.

“Come on,” he told her gently. “My taxi is still waiting. Wanna go home?”

Clara nodded weakly but still allowed him to lead her towards the car. The Doctor had no clue where their relationship would be going from here and he had to agree with Clara that yes, it was scary, but he would be damned if he just let her go so easily. Somehow, they would find a way to make it work despite their difficulties.


	47. Chapter 47

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys for the many sweet comments. . . Oh dear, looks like they have stuff to talk about.

Clara was too afraid to move. She had woken up a while ago, but she was dreading the conversation that was sure to follow as soon as she admitted to being awake. While the Doctor's arms were draped around her, she could pretend that everything was fine and that their fight had never happened. Their stupid, stupid fight. Had Clara actually believed that he would sell her secrets to the press? That he would fake an entire relationship just to improve his career? Some people would certainly do that, but not him. Not the Doctor. Would he ever be able to forgive her?

And what about the rest? What about all of her flaws and mistakes? Would the Doctor decide that he could no longer live with them? Was it too late to promise him to change?

“How long are you gonna pretend to be asleep?” the Doctor asked in a low, husky voice that was still heavy from sleep.

“Uhm,” Clara paused, “for a while longer?”

“Okay,” he mumbled in response and Clara felt him lean forward to leave a kiss on the back of her head before he fell silent again.

The Doctor obviously had no problems going back to sleep, judging by his slow, calm breathing, but Clara suddenly felt highly alert. Last night he had said that they would talk and that meant not everything was fine between them. Of course it wasn't. Not after her recent cock-up. But then why was he holding her in his arms as if nothing had ever happened? Clara needed to know.

“Doctor?” she asked carefully.

“Mh?”

“You said you wanted to talk?”

“I did,” he replied with a sigh. “And you said you wanted to sleep some more.”

“I, uh, I changed my mind,” Clara said hesitantly.

Suddenly, the room went awfully quiet and Clara couldn't hear a thing apart from her own breathing and that of the Doctor right next to her. For a moment, she considered the possibility that he had fallen back asleep when he breathed in a little more deeply than before and she guessed that he was about to start talking. The words that came out of his mouth, however, were not the ones she had expected to hear in a million years.

“Marry me.”

“ _What?!_ ”

Clara spun around in his embrace in a matter of seconds, thinking that she had probably heard him wrong or that he was making a joke. If it had been a joke, it was the worst she had ever witnessed in her entire life.

“Doctor?!”

“Hold on a second,” the Doctor cut her off and before Clara could react, he turned his back on her, opened the drawer of his bedside table and took something from it before he pulled the duvet over his head.

“Doctor, whatever it is you're doing, it's not funny!” Clara complained loudly as she sat up in bed. Yet all she was talking to was his vague shape under the duvet. This was the most childish thing he had ever done – and the Doctor usually had a knack for childish behaviour. “You can't just ask me to marry you and then hide under the duvet!”

“I'm not hiding,” said his muffled voice. “I'm crafting.”

“Crafting?” Clara rolled her eyes. She had had enough of this now. “Doctor, talk to me! Whether or not that proposal was serious, we need to talk about it!”

Without a warning, the duvet was thrown back and the Doctor's sleepy face and ruffled hair appeared next to her. Yet as Clara lowered her gaze a little, she spotted a small, silvery ring made out of what appeared to be bubblegum wrapping paper in his hands.

“Okay,” she replied warily, eyeing the makeshift ring with suspicion, “I did not expect that.”

“I'm serious, Clara,” the Doctor told her. “The proposal was serious. But I don't want to marry you right now.”

Clara's eyebrows shot up.

“I have conditions.”

In response, Clara started to chuckle. “I think this is the most surreal morning I had ever since I've met you. What conditions could there be to a marriage proposal?”

Suddenly, Clara felt the Doctor reach for her hand and even in the ridiculousness of the moment, she really appreciated the gesture when he squeezed it softly.

“I love you and I want to marry you one day,” the Doctor repeated.

“I love you, too, but-”

“Shush,” he silenced her quickly by placing a finger over his lips. “I also want you to love yourself. I want you to be happy with yourself. So, to earn a proper ring, you have to do a couple of things.”

Clara frowned at him. “What things?” she asked warily. She really had no idea what he was on about and it was frightening her a little.

The Doctor inhaled deeply before he spoke and Clara could feel him squeeze her hand in his once again. “Well, first of all, there's your problem with alcohol.”

“I don't have a problem with alcohol!” Clara instantly defended herself.

He raised his eyebrows at her in response. “That should be an easy fix then,” he replied sarcastically.

Clara sighed heavily. She had denied it in front of Danny and she had denied it in front of herself for a very long time. But the truth was that maybe the Doctor wasn't so wrong about that as she would like to believe. She drank when she was troubled. Just because she didn't depend on it didn't mean that there was no problem.

“Alright,” Clara agreed eventually. “I guess it can't hurt to talk to someone about it.”

The Doctor's features lit up immediately and before Clara knew what was happening, he leaned forward and pressed their lips together for a short kiss.

“Now, about your job,” he went on.

“What about it?”

“You hate it,” the Doctor told her. “You hate the fame, you hate performing, you hate the press attention, you hate people asking you for autographs. I don't think there's anything about it that you don't hate.”

Clara glowered at him in response. “And what do you suggest I do about that? I have to pay my bills somehow and it's not like I could just stop being famous and take a job in a shop.”

The Doctor merely shrugged. “You could work in the background,” he suggested. “Be a songwriter or a manager. I assume it's gonna take a couple of years, but they'll forget about you eventually.”

“Are you serious?” Clara asked him, not sure whether she should actually believe what was coming out of his mouth. This entire morning was simply bizarre and Clara wasn't sure whether it was a good or a bad thing.

“Yes, I'm serious.”  
She laughed at him in reply. “And you're gonna marry me once I'm happy with myself?”

“If that is what you want,” the Doctor said and suddenly raised her hand just a little. He lifted the makeshift wrapping paper ring and carefully placed it on her ring finger.

“This is utterly ridiculous.”

Yet the Doctor merely smiled at her as if he knew something she didn't, as if he trusted it to all turn out alright. “You'll get a proper ring once you've earned it,” he promised.

“You're assuming I want one,” Clara said with a chuckle. “But what if I don't?”

He shrugged. “Then I suppose I just made this marvellous paper ring for nothing.”

Clara smiled at him in reply and even though she still thought that this entire idea was ridiculous and slightly insane, she knew that at least one part of it felt absolutely right. The Doctor, this ridiculous, silly man was the one she wanted to spend the rest of her life with. Not knowing what else to do or what to say, Clara simply leaned forward and locked their lips in a kiss.


	48. Chapter 48

**One Year Later**

For once, the pasta didn't seem over- or undercooked and when Clara lifted the lid of the pot that contained the sauce, she noticed with delight that it also looked quite edible. It occurred to her that maybe the Doctor had requested such a simple dish as spaghetti bolognese because there was hardly anything she could mess up, but he had requested it and she had promised to make it for him. Dinner was ready. Now the only thing that was missing was the Doctor and Clara couldn't wait for him to finally show up so she could give him the good news.

As if on cue, the front door to their flat opened and a smile spread across Clara's face when she heard his footsteps on the corridor. She instantly went to greet him.

“Dinner is ready,” she announced proudly and before the Doctor had a chance to escape, she threw her arms around his neck and greeted him with a swift kiss.

“You seem excited,” the Doctor noted, a hint of wariness in his voice. “And in a good mood?”

“And you are late,” Clara replied and jabbed his chest with her index finger.

“Sorry,” the Doctor mumbled before he quickly bent down to kiss her again. “You know Missy when she starts talking.”

“Unfortunately, I do,” she muttered under her breath.

“On the bright side, we've discussed everything related to the tour. Psi and Saibra are on board as well. Everything's taken care of.”

“That's great,” Clara said sincerely before she knitted her brows again. “You know what else is great? Eating while the food is still hot. Come on!”

Clara took him by the hand and dragged the Doctor into the kitchen where she had already set the table for them both. Tonight was special. Tonight, it would happen. Clara was sure of that and the anticipation filled her with an almost childlike glee.

“So, uhm, how was your day?” the Doctor asked after he had stuffed some of the spaghetti into his mouth. “You look like something exciting happened.”

Clara giggled in response before she reached into her pocket and pulled out a little chip that she laid on the table in front of the Doctor. She was beaming with pride, but Clara didn't care that he saw. She had every reason to be proud.

“Got my one-year chip today,” she announced happily.

The Doctor's face lit up in an instant and before Clara knew what was happening, he had risen from his seat and placed a big, soft kiss on her lips. Then he plopped back down in his seat, still beaming broadly.

“That is wonderful news!” he said excitedly. “I wish you had told me sooner. I would've taken you to a restaurant, not let you cook for me.”

“It's okay, I wanted to cook,” Clara reassured him. Then her features turned into a mischievous smile. “You can take me to a restaurant next weekend.”

“Deal,” the Doctor agreed and went on to stuff some more spaghetti into his mouth.

“Also, remember that young musician Amy talked about the other day?”

He looked up and it was apparent from his face that he didn't remember a thing, so Clara decided to enlighten him.

“The insanely tall one with the husky voice?”

“Oh, the giant,” the Doctor blurted out, obviously remembering her now that Clara had provided further details. “Yeah, what about her?”

Clara grinned at him. “I met with her today and I think we really clicked. I agreed to co-write her next album.”

However, the expression on the Doctor's face didn't look as though he thought that to be good news. He looked confused, maybe even a little offended. “I thought you wanted to co-write _my_ next album,” the Doctor grumbled in reply.

Clara laughed at him. “I can co-write more than one album, Doctor. Don't worry, I haven't forgotten about you.”

His face lit up again. “Good,” he concluded and Clara's heart skipped a little beat when he suddenly put his fork aside. Was it going to happen now? Was he going to give her the ring he had promised her a year ago? Would their engagement finally become official?

“Let me do something nice for you, mh?” the Doctor suddenly said. “I mean, your chip, the new project, that needs to be celebrated, right? What do you wanna do? Pick anything and we'll do that next weekend.”

Clara's face turned into a frown when he looked at her expectantly as if he demanded her to pick an activity on the spot. He hadn't forgotten, had he? One year ago, the Doctor had asked her to marry him and he had promised her a proper ring as soon as she was happy with herself. She had worked hard since then and now, Clara was finally able to say that she was indeed happy with who she was and with what she was doing. She owed it all to him – the man who had either forgotten about the promised he had made her a year ago or who felt that she still hadn't done enough. Whatever it was, it made her a little angry.

“We could go to Scotland,” the Doctor suggested nonchalantly. “We haven't been there for a while.”

“I've been sober for a year now,” Clara told him sternly. “I've been to an AA meeting every week and I haven't missed a single one apart from that week when I had the flu.”

Yet the Doctor only smiled at her. “I know and I'm very proud of you.”

“I've also stepped out of the limelight even though Amy tried very hard to get me to reconsider. But I've listened to you. I took a break and now I found something that I love doing that doesn't involve all the publicity and press attention,” she said angrily. “I'm happy now.”

“That's. . . uhm. . . that's good.”

“I want my ring!” Clara blurted out before she could stop herself. “The one you promised me a year ago. I've fulfilled all of your conditions. I've earned it!”

To her surprise, a smile spread across the Doctor's face. “You didn't really give off the impression that you wanted one.”

“Well, I want one,” Clara replied and crossed her arms in front of her chest.

Chuckling softly, the Doctor reached into the inside pocket of his jacket and drew out a small box that he set down on the table between the two of them. Clara's mouth fell open in an instant.

“I was actually waiting for a more romantic moment, but if you insist-” the Doctor said and opened the box to reveal what Clara could only describe as a _proper_ ring. Then he reached for her hand across the table and placed the ring on her finger. It was the perfect fit and Clara smiled at the sight of it on her hand. “Do you like it?”

“I love it,” she replied happily and jumped up from her seat. In a matter of seconds, Clara had straddled the Doctor's lap and bent down to kiss him. “And I love _you_.”

“I love you, too,” the Doctor said sweetly, but Clara had already turned her attention back towards the ring on her finger.

She really couldn't have asked for a more perfect engagement ring. It was the right fit, the right size, it was somewhere between classic and modern. The perfect ring. The longer she looked at it, the more Clara found herself falling in love with it. But then she also spotted something else.

“Hang on, is that _dust_?” she asked and blew on the ring just to be certain. Surely enough, a few specks of dust came loose and Clara raised her head and glowered at the Doctor. “How long has this been in your pocket?”

“Uhm,” he hesitated, “for a bit?”

“How long?!” she demanded to know.

The Doctor granted her his most apologetic smile. “I wanted to be prepared,” he argued. “I mean, I did ask you a year ago.”

“So this ring has been sitting in your pocket for the past _twelve months_?!”

In response, the Doctor merely smiled at her and Clara reached out and nudged him roughly.

“You're an idiot!” she growled at him.

“But you love me.”

With a sigh, Clara looked from the ring on her finger back to the Doctor. “Yeah, I do. Don't ask me why though because I have no-”

Clara's sentence was cut off when the Doctor suddenly cupped her face in his hands and pulled her down for another, longer kiss. Yes, he was an idiot, but he was her idiot now. And she was going to marry him. For the first time in years, Clara felt truly happy and she owed it all to the Doctor. From now on, Clara was going to spend the rest of her life trying to make him as happy as he made her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now it's time for a massive group hug!!!!
> 
> Thank you all so very, very much for reading, hitting the kudos button and especially taking a moment to write a comment! I hope you guys know that every single one is so very much appreciated :) Even though Twelve's era has officially ended now, I hope you'll still come back for any further Whouffaldi story I write (but I'm sure that at least my hardcore readers will :D). Thank you so much for your support and hopefully see you soon!


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